


Lost and Found

by bwayfan25



Category: The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: AU where Giles finds Elisa as a baby and raises her, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And all that jazz, But you've got all of Elisa's childhood to read through first, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Fishboi does appear I swear, Giles as a gay dad, Grief, Growing Up, Hope, It's worth it though I promise, Love, M/M, joy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-03-17 13:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 96,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bwayfan25/pseuds/bwayfan25
Summary: The river would be the perfect place to paint peacefully, looking out over the water and the sun setting behind the Baltimore skyline. But the river hid a secret that would turn his world upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So right after I saw TSOW for the first time, I saw one of those “sometimes a family is…” memes that said something like “sometimes a family is a mute janitor, her fish boyfriend, her ride-or-die best friend, and her gay dad” and as much as I enjoyed it, I didn’t really get the whole part about Giles being like Elisa’s dad. Mostly because I saw their platonic relationship as best friends. 
> 
>  
> 
> But as I saw it again (and again and again), I realized what they’re talking about. Clearly, they are very good friends, but she takes care of him in a way that sort of reminds me of an adult child caring for their aging parents. And as I developed this idea in my head, with the potential for including it in other fics, I ended up waking up one morning with the first thought in my head being “WHAT IF THERE WAS AN AU WHERE GILES IS THE ONE WHO FINDS ELISA AS A BABY????”
> 
>  
> 
> And thus this fic was born. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you in advance for taking the time to read this very, very long first chapter. As always, I appreciate any comments and/or kudos. Happy reading!

The Baltimore skyline was not nearly as nice as the New York skyline he had once painted, but Giles made do. 

Here on this little strip of grass on the river, he could see the lights of the buildings glinting off the water below. The sun was setting in the west, leaving behind a beautiful lavender backdrop. 

He breathed in a large deep breath of fresh air, and started setting up his easel. 

As he moved it back and forth to find the perfect spot, he thought about how good things were going at this moment.

The twenties were roarin’, or so they said. People were riding high, booze was flowing, and people were spending money. That included buying art. 

And this painting, if he could get the colors  _ just right _ , he could be swimming in dough. If he made enough, he and his boyfriend John could take a nice trip to Italy, like they’d always talked about.

They could eat and drink and fuck. His twenties could roar just as much as everyone else’s. 

He set the easel down once more and squinted in the direction of the buildings. Satisfied, he pulled out a tube of paint and a pallet. He was just about to squirt some out onto the pallet to mix it when he saw an odd thing half-hidden in the water.

As he strained to see it, it seemed to disappear, so he ignored it. But as he adjusted back into position, he saw it again.

Setting his paint down, he stepped towards the thing and felt water seep into his shoes. Cursing, he looked down to see a low-set puddle. He was a few feet from the river’s edge, which made the puddle that much more infuriating.

“Dammit these are my best wingtips,” he muttered as he stepped out of the puddle. 

As he danced a little jig, trying to get the water out, he saw the half-hidden thing again. Taking a step to his right, he peered behind a set of reeds.

A baby, a tiny human baby wrapped in rags, lay half-drowned in the water. It’s skin, though white and pale, had a tinge of blue to it. That is, except around the baby’s neck, near which the water ran red. 

It was alive, he could tell that much, but he wasn’t sure for how much longer it would remain that way.

“What the…”

Carefully, Giles stepped closer to it and scooped it into his arms. It felt even tinier than it looked. 

It’s face was scrunched up like it was crying, but it made no sound. It did seem to be weak though, as usually a crying baby would wave its arms around and this one, though free of the swaddle, did not.

“What are you doing out here?” Giles asked slowly, his voice full of awe and confusion.

He held the baby out in front of him to get a good luck at it. It calmed some at his touch, but continued to make it’s silent cry. But as he stood looking at it, something dripped onto his hand. 

Bloody water.

He remembered the small dark shadow that had floated next to it in the water. 

The baby was bleeding. He needed to get it to help.

Throwing as much of his supplies into his bag as he could with one hand, he threw the bag over one shoulder as he gently held the baby in the other. 

There was an orphanage nearby. A Catholic orphanage. He had passed it on his way out here. Maybe he could take it there and they’d care for it. Or at least they could administer last rites.

Giles tossed his bag into his van and climbed in. Tucking the baby close to his chest, he shifted into gear and slowly backed out. Within minutes he was hammering on the door.

“Pardon me sir, but could you please be a little quieter? The children are sleeping,” a young nun scolded as soon as she swung open the door.

“I’m sorry but I found this baby down near the river and it needs help, can you help it?” he said as fast as his mouth would let him. 

He shoved the baby forward towards the young nun. She hid her surprise fairly well as she took it from him, and turned. 

“What is it, Sister Mary Elizabeth?” he heard another woman ask from within the door. 

“This man brought in an infant. A foundling, from near the river,” Sister Mary Elizabeth explained, nodding back over her shoulder towards Giles. 

“I’ll fetch Father O’Malley,” the other nun said. “Or should I fetch a doctor?”

“Both,” Giles blurted out. 

Both Sister Mary Elizabeth and the other nun, an older woman named Sister Geraldine, turned to face him, their faces unimpressed. 

“Sorry. I just thought…” he said. “Can I come with you?”

“Are you the infant’s father?”

“No, no God...l mean goodness no,” Giles said, shaking his head. “I just found it and, you know, I want to make sure it’s okay and all that.”

The two nuns exchanged a silent conversation of eyebrows. Finally, Sister Geraldine turned to him.

“You may join us. But you may  _ not _ talk.”

Giles nodded vigorously as he followed the two women on. 

They led him to a candlelit washroom. Immediately, the younger of the women started bathing the baby in a basin nearby. Giles tucked himself into the corner and watched.

“Did you see this?” Sister Mary Elizabeth murmured to Sister Geraldine, motioning to the wounds on the infant’s neck. 

Sister Geraldine nodded. 

“Ladies?” a man asked with a knock on the doorway.

“Ah. Dr. Litsker. Please. Come in. Oh and Father. We’re glad you’re here,” Sister Geraldine greeted as a young man in a white coat entered, followed by an old man in a clerical collar. 

“Where is the child?” Father O’Malley asked. 

“Here,” Sister Mary Elizabeth said, handing over the infant. 

Giles watched as the priest pulled out a vial of Holy Water and quickly and quietly baptized the child before handing it over to the doctor. Clearly, he thought the call was far more urgent than it seemed to be.

“Will I need to provide last rites?” the priest asked a moment after the doctor started listening to the infant’s heart with the stethoscope. 

“Not anytime soon I don’t believe,” the doctor said as he removed the stethoscope from his ears. “It’s a little weak, a bit malnourished and hypothermic, but it’s heart is strong.”

“ _ Her _ heart is strong,” the older nun corrected. 

“It’s a girl?” Giles said quietly from the corner. 

Both of the nuns turned to glare at him, while the men turned in surprise. 

“Yes. The child is a girl,” Sister Geraldine snapped. “Now please, sir. If you will let the doctor work.”

Giles nodded and shrunk back into the corner. 

“As I was saying... “ the doctor continued. “It’s heart is strong. I suggest a wet nurse or evaporate milk formula, and to make sure you keep her warm.”

“What of the neck?” Sister Mary Elizabeth said in a low voice. 

“I believe that these cuts here,” the doctor said as he dabbed antibiotic cream to the infant’s neck. “Are aimed for the muscle that vibrates the vocal cords.”

“What does that mean?” Giles asked from the corner, before immediately slapping his hands over his mouth.

“Sir, we will have to ask you to le-” one of the nuns started before the doctor held up a hand. 

“He’s just curious, Sister. There’s no harm in answering a few questions,” the doctor said, before turning to Giles. “There is a very, we’ll say  _ medieval _ , method of stopping a baby from crying that includes damaging the vocal cords to prevent them from making sound. On this particular child, it seems they damaged the nerves that control the vocal cords.”

“Will it- will she be okay?” Giles said worriedly, moving a step closer to peer at the baby.

“Physically, yes. Her esophagus has not been damaged, and her airway seems open, so I would say the only difference will be aphonia.”

“Aphonia?”

“It means the inability to produce vocal sound. Hence why she does not make sound while crying.The child will not be able to speak,” the doctor said with finality. 

Giles nodded, gulping, and backed into the corner once again.

“Thank you so much doctor. And thank you Father. We’ll take it from here,” Sister Geraldine said. 

The men gave their goodbyes and left, leaving Giles alone with the two nuns. 

“Sir,” Sister Mary Elizabeth said, turning towards Giles. “I’ll have Sister Geraldine fetch the paperwork for you to sign, saying that you found the child and are turning it over to us, and then you may go.”

“Oh, uh, good,” Giles said, nodding as he ran a hand through his prematurely-thinning hair. “But I need to know- and, don’t take this the wrong way- but, but it’ll be okay here, right?”

The Sisters exchanged glances once more. 

“Of course it will, sir. That’s what we  _ do _ here. Take care of children.”

“Yes, yes. I know that. But I mean… she’ll be okay here? Will you be able to, I don’t know… teach her to communicate? I’ve heard of people using their hands to talk. Maybe that?”

“We’ll  cross that bridge when we get there-”

“And the other kids? Will they be, you know, nice to her?” Giles continued, wringing his hands. 

Sister Geraldine sighed. 

“We do not tolerate bullying, if that’s what you are asking,” Sister Geraldine said. “But there can always be something that slips its way through.”

“Many of the children who come here have been through great deals of hardship,” Sister Mary Elizabeth explained. “They face grief, anger, distress. Sometimes they cannot process it well, and take their emotions out on others. We stop it when we can, but sometimes…”

The young nun sighed, averting her eyes. 

Giles brain felt like it was filled with static. Thoughts flew through his mind faster than he could process them. 

Then, suddenly, he was no longer in control. 

He heard himself ask for the child back, watched his hands take it in its fresh swaddle. He felt himself take the offered bag with a few diapers and some baby food. He drove home, the babe held tight in his arm, his brain on autopilot.

Then he was unlocking the door.

“I was wondering when you were going to get back,” a man’s voice said from the armchair in the living room. “It’s well past dark now. Did you go out without me or something?”

John peered over his large newspaper, and Giles watched as his eyes grew wide at the thing in Giles’ arms. 

“What is that?”

Giles looked down at it as if seeing it for the first time.

“It’s a baby.”

“A baby? Like a human baby?”

“Yes of course. What else would it be, a fish?”

“Why do you have a baby?” John said, rising from his chair. “Is it yours?”

Giles tilted his head slightly, still looking at the baby.

“It is now.”

John folded the paper with a  _ whap _ .

“Where the hell did you get it? Is it yours? Did you cheat on me?”

“What? No, no.” Giles shook his head and looked back up to John. “No. I found it next to the river when I was getting ready to paint, and then I took it to the orphanage and-”

“Why didn’t you _leave_ _it there_?” John pushed. “That’s what orphanages do. They take of unwanted children-”

“She’s  _ not _ unwanted.  _ I  _ want her,” Giles snapped, unconsciously holding the child just a bit closer to him. 

“Since  _ when _ , Giles? Since when? You’ve never shown any interest in children before. Why start now? Why this?” 

“I don’t… know,” Giles said slowly. “It just feels… right. I can’t explain it.”

“Well I’m not going to help take care of it, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

“ _ Her,  _ take care of  _ her _ ,” Giles corrected harshly. “And you have to. Please John I can’t do this alone-”

“Well then maybe you should have thought about that  _ before _ you brought it home,” John said firmly. 

He disappeared through the door and returned a moment later with a bag over his shoulder. He pulled his coat down off the rack.

“I’ll return tomorrow for the rest of my things.”

“John, please. Wait-”

Giles grabbed John’s arm as he passed, but he shrugged it off.

“Please don’t leave,” Giles said in an urgent whisper.

“Then take that thing back to where you found it,” John ordered. “The orphanage. The river. I don’t give a shit. Just get rid of it.”

“I won’t. I-I can’t.”

“Then goodbye.”

And with that, John placed his hat on his head and opened the door.

Giles stared after him, long after the door closed. It wasn’t until the baby in his arms started to squirm that he was pulled back to reality.

He looked down at the baby girl. Her color had returned some, and she had opened her eyes. They were big and brown. She seemed to be watching him, her eyes boring into his soul.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I can’t do this. I just can’t. I need to take you back. I can’t keep you. I just can’t.”

It was as if the baby could understand him. Almost immediately, her face scrunched up into her silent cry. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Giles said quickly, instinctively starting to bounce to get the baby to calm down. “Don’t do that. It’s okay. I won’t take you back. I promise I won’t, okay? Just…. just….It’s just that I have no idea what I’m going to do. I’m sorry.”

He looked back down at the baby, who had calmed at his voice. 

He stood for a moment, staring at the wall, his brain going faster than the speed of light. Finally, Giles sighed and trudged up the stairs to sit down on the bed.

“John’s right. I’ve never had any interest in kids. For one thing, I never  _ ever _ thought I’d have any. But there was something about you. I just couldn’t leave you there,” Giles said, shaking his head. “But God, I don’t know what to do with you  _ here _ . I don’t have a crib, or clothes, or a wife. Not that you should ever expect that part, because that’s  _ certainly  _ not going to happen, but I’ll explain that part when you’re older. Here. Let’s lay down.”

Giles kicked off his shoes and slowly sat down on the bed before adjusted himself so he was laying down. He could feel the water soak through his socks onto the bed linens. An hour ago, he’d have cared about it, but somehow it didn’t seem important anymore.

Neither did the fact that he didn’t have the nice new tie he’d seen in the department store window, or that he was going bald at twenty-five, or the fact that he still couldn’t tell the difference between two different types of red wine.

None of those trivial things that bothered him before bothered him now. Even just thinking about them made him feel stupid. How could he care so much about those little things when there was this new little thing that was so little it could probably fit in one of his hands? This little thing that now depended on him survival?

“I remember my dad holding my brother on his chest while they slept. Back when he was small and didn’t own half the city’s car dealerships,” Giles muttered. “Should we try that? Maybe get you out of this thing for a little while.”

Giles carefully unwrapped the blanket from around the baby, freeing its arm and legs. Without the swaddle on, he could see the nuns had dressed her in a simple white dress.

He set the blanket aside and carefully laid the child face-down on his chest. But as he went to adjust her head so it was turned sideways, the baby flinched horribly and started its silent cry. 

“Oh no your neck! Your neck!” Giles said, alarmed, as he quickly and carefully picked the baby back up and set it down beside him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Did I… is it okay?”

Gently, he lifted a finger to check the adhesive gauze on the side of the baby’s neck closest to him. It was still stuck firmly to the infant’s skin. 

As he moved to pull his hand away, the baby started crying once again. He ran a finger down her cheek, mumbling incoherent reassurances as she calmed. He tried to pull away again, but it seemed anytime he removed physical contact, she’d cry again. 

Finally, he tucked his finger inside her tiny hand, which seemed to please her. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m sorry they hurt you. I’m sorry all you have is me. You deserve so much better, but I promise I’ll try, okay? I might not be everything you’ll need me to be, but I’m not backing out. I promise.”

Giles just laid there for a moment. The baby was getting more and more tired. Her eyes would close for longer and longer periods of time before opening just enough, before she’d start over again. He touched the bottom of her foot and marveled at how her toes flexed and how her foot was roughly the size of one of his fingers. 

“You know, all I could think while I was standing there listening to them talk about you was ‘if she grows up here, is she always gonna think she’s not wanted?’” Giles said softly, his voice catching on every other word. “Learning first that the people who were supposed to protect and care for you hurt you and left you to die, and then learning someone found you and chose to leave you at an orphanage?

“Because I’ve felt unwanted before kiddo, and I would never wish that feeling on anyone ever. And so thought, if I didn’t want you to grow up feeling like that, then I had to be the one to do something about it. So here we are. You and me. Isn’t that right-”

Giles cut himself off. 

“They never named you, did they?”

He paused, thinking through it.

“Usually, we do family names…” he said slowly. “How about my mother’s mother’s name? I always liked her. How about Marianne? Eh?”

He looked to the baby as if expecting a response, but her eyes were closed as drifted off to sleep.

“Nah. Maybe as a middle name…” he said. “Well, let’s see... my dad’s mom was… Elisabeth, I think. She died before I was born. But that’s nice, right? Elisabeth? Mmmm. Not quite, but something similar. Liz? Beth? Bethany? How about Bethany? No. Not Bethany. Not lIz. What about... Elisa?”

The baby opened her eyes at the sound of the last name he said. 

“That one? You like that one? Elisa?”

The baby blinked. 

“I like that one. Elisa. But it would have an ‘s’ though, because they were German. Would people say it right? Or spell it right? I don’t know. It would be a bit different. But I guess we are too, so why not?”

The baby yawned and closed her eyes again. GIles ran a gently finger down her cheek. 

“Elisa Marianne. I like that.”

The baby sighed in its sleep. 

“I take it you like that too,” Giles said, grinning. “Well Elisa, it’s nice to officially meet you, now that you’ve got a name and all. My name is Giles and I’m your dad. God, I never thought I’d ever tell a kid that. But we all change, don’t we? I’m not the same man I was three hours ago. At least I don’t feel like I am. Because now it’s the two of us. Just you and me. And strap in kid, because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I’m pretty sure I’m in it for the long haul.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Band-Aids were first invented in 1920 and became popular in 1924 after they developed a machine to mass produce sterilize them. I learned that while researching for this fic.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I feel like Giles was born around 1900. I already established that in end notes of a different fic of mine, and I also established that my “birthday” for Elisa is in March of 1925. So if Giles was born in 1900 and Elisa in 1925… Giles is only two and a half years older than I am at this moment. And while I would feel really young to have a baby at twenty-five (mostly because I still need to go to grad school!), he’s probably just about average when it comes to the age of a new father. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! Keep an eye out for new chapters coming soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: there's going to be some period typical homophobia.

Concerned he would roll over on her in the middle of the night if he kept the baby in the bed beside him, Giles spent forty-five minutes figuring out what to do as an alternative.

Truthfully, it took him all of two minutes to figure out that an open-topped wooden crate with a folded blanket in the bottom would be suitable for her to sleep  _ in _ . What he couldn’t figure out is  _ where _ it should go.

On top of the dresser felt too high (what if she wiggled and it fell off?). On the floor next to the bed felt too low (what if he forgot she was there and tripped over it?)

Eventually, after much consideration, he cleared off the top of his bedside table and set the crate there. He was impressed by her, mostly that he had lifted her off the bed, put her in the crate, moved it several times, and yet she remained asleep (just asleep- he had checked twice to make sure she was still breathing).

Once she was settled, he changed into his pajamas. Just as the thought  _ how am I ever going to sleep tonight?  _ passed through his head, his head hit the pillow and he was out like a light.

When he awoke the next day, there was a very brief moment in which he completely forgot everything that had occurred the previous night. 

It wasn’t until he was ready to call out after John, asking why he hadn’t woken him up yet, that he remembered his new ward.

She was still fast asleep when he sat up to check on her, though she definitely was going to need fed and changed. He left her there as he rose to get ready.

Interrupted only briefly by a call into work claiming a stomach flu so bad he couldn’t  _ possibly _ come into work until at  _ least  _ Monday, he felt rather impressed with himself as he got both himself and the baby fed and ready with minimal crying from both of them.

“I guess we’ll probably need to get you more clothes and food and all that. And a crib,” Giles sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “That’s not gonna come cheap. If only I knew someone who had one but doesn’t-”

He cut himself off. He  _ did _ know somebody who had a bunch of baby supplies that didn’t need them anymore. 

But he hadn’t spoken to them in  _ years. _ He had promised himself he’d never go back. He never thought he’d never have a reason to. 

For the second time in two days, his brain went into autopilot. Before he was consciously aware of it, he was on their doorstep, Elisa in hand.

With a deep breath, he knocked.

There was a moment of silence as he waited. Then there was the sound of footsteps and the door in front of him unlocked. 

“Gilbert?” a woman asked as she opened the door. “Gilbert, is that really you?”

“Yes, mama,” he said sheepishly. “It’s me.”

“But, but…” Ann-Marie stammered. “But you left. You said you would never-“

“I know what I said,” Giles replied nodding. “And I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing here?”

Giles sighed deeply. 

“I found myself in a bit of a predicament.”

Ann-Marie’s eyes scanned him from the top down, starting with his thinning hair. Her eyes stopped when she noticed the swaddled thing in his arms.

“Is… is that yours?”

“Yes. And, if you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate some guidance.”

Ann-Marie observed him for another moment before stepping aside and letting him in. He passed by her through the foyer and the hall to the kitchen. 

Being inside his childhood home made him feel uncomfortable, but he did his best not to show it.

“So it’s yours,” she repeated. “You had a baby?”

“Yes.”

“With a woman?”

Giles took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“Well where is she? We’d love to meet her.”

Giles froze. 

He had not thought about this part. Lying and saying it was his and he had it with a woman was easy enough, but asking who and where this woman was was another matter entirely. 

“Uh, she… died,” Giles said slowly. He bought himself another moment by heaving a deep sigh as the words came to him. “She was my… ex. Didn’t know she was pregnant until I got a call from her mother a few days ago saying that the baby was mine and that she, uh, didn’t make it through the birth.”

“So you were not married?”

“No.”

Ann-Marie nodded, and Giles couldn’t quite tell if she wasn’t convinced of his story or just disappointed that her new grandchild was born out of wedlock. Finally, she took a seat opposite him at the table.

“Well, I appreciate you coming to me. I’ve missed you so much and, well thought I’d have hoped it was under… different circumstances, you came home. And I’m very happy you did,” she said sincerely.  “May… may I meet your-?”

“Daughter. And yes,” Giles said, nodding as he carefully handed the baby over to her.

“What’s her name?” Ann-Marie asked quietly as she adjusted the child in her arms so she could look at her better.

“Elisa. Elisa Marianne.”

Ann-Marie looked at him so fast he could have sworn he heard her neck crack.

“Her middle name is Marianne? After my-”

“After your mother. Yes.”

The tears that had been threatening to fall from Ann-Marie’s eyes could be held back no longer. 

“Well, that’s so… nice,” she said, choking up. “Hello Elisa.”

She ran a finger down the baby’s cheek, moving the blanket out of the way slightly as she did so. It was at that moment that she noticed the bandages.

“What happened to her neck? What is this?”

“Oh, uh…” Giles paused. “It-it happened before I had her. Something in… something in the birth. Opening her airway or something.”

“Oh. Well, she’ll be alright, won’t she?” Ann-Marie said, her attention turned back to the baby in her arms. 

“Uh, yes I think so. They said she probably won’t be able to talk, but other than that, she’ll be fine. And she is now. Fine, I mean.”

Ann-Marie nodded absently as she murmured things to the baby in her arms. 

“You know, I think she has your nose,” Ann-Marie observed.

“She does?” Giles said confused, before quickly catching himself. “I mean. Of course she does.”

Ann-Marie narrowed her eyes at him for the briefest of moments before she decided to ignore it.

Giles shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Is he… around?”

Ann-Marie sighed.

“He went out for breakfast,” she explained. “Whether or not he comes back today is nothing I’m bothering myself over.”

Giles nodded. 

“Why do you ask?”

“Just for… Well I was hoping that you might still have all the baby stuff from when we were young. Up in the attic, maybe?”

“Yes I do. But why do you need him?” Ann-Marie pressed.

“Just for help in carrying it down.”

“You should be able to handle it on your own,” she replied tersely. “No need for him to help you.”

There was the sound of a door unlocking. Ann-Marie closed her eyes for a moment and let out the smallest of breaths.

“You had to mention him,” she whispered in a voice so low, Giles could barely hear it. 

A tall man came in through the doorway. He swept his hat off his head and turned, ready to say something to his wife, as his eyes fell on Giles. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Daniel, please. Gilbert just came by for a visit.”

“A visit? After all that shit he said the last time he was here?” Daniel continued, his eye contact with Giles unwavering. 

“I’m sorry. Dad,” Giles said, adding the last word like an afterthought. 

“Why are you here?” Daniel repeated. 

“He came by because he needs things from the attic,” Ann-Marie said. “The baby things I kept for all those years. He needs them for his daughter. We’re grandparents.”

Daniel frowned, then looked from Giles to Ann-Marie to the baby in Ann-Marie’s arms, and then back to Giles. Then, to Giles’ surprise, his father smiled.

“Well, how about that?” he said cheerfully. “You did it, didn’t you? How about that.”

Giles smiled slightly, though it looked more like a grimace. 

“Why don’t you meet me at the top of the stairs in about five minutes?. I’ll go get a couple things and meet you there so we can that crib apart, eh? And all them boxes.”

Before waiting for an answer, Daniel turned and disappeared down a door to his left. Ann-Marie sighed.

“I’ll look after Elisa. You go do what he wants,” she said quietly, not looking at him.

Giles nodded and made his way up to the top of the stairs. Part of him burned to return to his childhood bedroom and look, but before he could, his father appeared. 

Giles watched as Daniel opened the panel in the ceiling to the attic. A dusty old rope ladder fell and Daniel climbed up, followed by his son.

“So,” Daniel started once both of them were up in the attic. “You want something to drink?”

He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers from the toolbag he’d carried up with him.

“Oh God yes,” Giles said, just now registering the gnawing want that had been bothering him since last night. 

It struck him as odd, as the whiskey burned its way down his throat, that as much as he now felt he needed it, he hadn’t thought of alcohol at all since last night.

“So the kid. It’s really yours?”

“Yes, sir.”

Daniel smiled as he leaned against one slanted rafter. 

“You married?”

“No, sir.”

“Your mother isn’t gonna be happy about that.”

“She seemed okay with it,” Giles replied. “Though she was pretty distracted by her first grandchild to notice much else.”

“Your girl around here?” Daniel continued. 

“No, sir. She didn’t make it. Through the birth, I mean,” Giles lied. “We were estranged. But I wanted to, uh, keep the baby.”

Danielle nodded as he poured himself another whiskey. He raised the glass to Giles.

“To the new father then,” he said. 

Giles raised his too and they both drank.

“I have to say,” Daniel said after draining his glass. “Your mother might have a problem with this stuff. The premarital stuff, but honestly Gilbert? I’m proud of you.”

“For keeping it?” Giles asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah. Who cares about that. I’m proud of you because I’ve always had my suspicions about you, you know. About what kind of man you are. But getting a girl knocked up? Well, Gil that’s just about the manliest thing you could do. And I don’t have those suspicions anymore. Manly men, like me and you? They make the best fathers. You’re gonna do great.”

Giles’ brain buzzed. 

He didn't like lying. He wasn’t very good at it, honestly. It always made him feel so dirty, so sweaty. Like he had a big rubber stamp that said LIAR across his forehead. He felt that now; that any moment his father was going to get clued in and the whole jig would be up.

The lie felt too big now. The kind of too big that was top heavy and would soon fall over and crush everything coming down. 

But what bothered him the most was the last thing his father said:  _ Manly men, like me and you? They make the best fathers. You’re gonna do great. _

He considered his own father. Aloof, distant, often mean. Giles thought of the countless times the man in front of him had reduced his mother to tears. How often they fought. How he let Giles’ younger brothers bully him and didn’t say a word. 

Men like Daniel, those backstabbing, careless, awful men made  _ terrible _ fathers. Daniel was a terrible father. And Giles was  _ not _ going to be anything like him. 

In fact, not being one of those men would make him  _ better _ . 

Exactly what his father was describing right now… It was this language, these  _ implications _ that had taught him to feel unwanted. And had he not already promised Elisa that he would never let her feel that way? 

So what if he wasn’t a “manly man” like his father believed. He would still make a great father. 

He would have to keep secrets- to protect her, to protect himself. Maybe he’d find a man. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe no one else would ever know that he was a man who loved men and yet he still had a daughter who was well cared for and loved. Maybe no one else would ever know that truth.

But  _ he  _ would know. He was going to prove his father wrong.

So Giles smiled, and raised his glass. 

“I sure hope so.”

 

Ann-Marie  _ really _ did not want to let Giles take Elisa back once he and Daniel had loaded the dismantled crib into the back of Giles’ car.

“But can’t you stay just a little longer?” she said, her voice nearing the edge of pleading.

“I need to get back and put this together so she can take a nap.”

Ann-Marie frowned. 

“Where is it your staying now, Gilbert?”

“Oh. I’ve been renting a house over on.... On the other side of town. But my roommate I’d been living with moved out, so I’m probably going to get a smaller place. For the time being. Since it’s just the two of us.”

“There’s a loft nearby,” Ann-Marie offered. “Near that movie house? Near the chocolate factory? They have a couple of lofts they’re renting out. I saw the sign for them the other day when I was out running errands. That’s not too far from here. Perhaps you and Elisa could move in there?

Despite the fact that Giles knew the movie house was less than a fifteen minute walk from his parent’s house, he couldn’t deny that it would probably be a decent place for the pair of them. It was nearby a school and a few shops. It probably was  _ far  _ cheaper than trying to rent the large house he was currently in on his own.

He bade his mother goodbye (his father not having reappeared after loading the crib into the car), and set off. 

Within days, the little John had left behind in the house was packed in boxes and packed in the car, along with Giles, Elisa, and his cats Juno and Mercury. Upon arrival, he paid the first month’s rent (also known as the previous house’s security deposit) to the landlord and owner of the movie theatre Mr. Arzoumanian, and made his way upstairs.

He had been shown two lofts, and decided on the one on the right. He figured, the one on the left was just a little too bright and loud for a week-old baby to be able to stand. 

“Well kiddo,” he said to Elisa as he stood inside the empty space. “It’s not much, but I think it’ll do us pretty well. What do you think? You think you’ll be okay growing up here?” 

He stepped closer to the large window on the outside wall of the room. 

“That’ll be good for natural light,” he muttered, observing the space. “And I could set up my easel here to get the most of it. And we can put the sofa here opposite. Yes. That’ll work.”

He turned slightly.

“And the bed’s over there, so we’ll need to put the crib over there. Pulling down the bed isn’t the best, but I guess when it’s up it does provide a little extra space. That’ll be good when you’re old enough to crawl and play. I’ll be able to sit and work and still watch… you…”

Giles trailed off. 

Consciously, he had considered the fact that, by taking Elisa in, he would see her grow up. That was the job he had signed on for- raise her. But the responsibilities, the getting-used-to-having-her-around-and-keeping-her-alive part of the job had been the most pressing thing, and had kept him from thinking too far ahead. 

He had not yet imagined what it would be like to raise her. That was something else entirely. To imagine watching her take her first steps or tie her shoes or go to college or get married. 

The thought of it, of getting to be part of it, filled him with the overwhelming feelings of joy and exhilaration and apprehension and fear. 

He looked down at the sleeping baby in his arms. His daughter. His Elisa. The feelings overwhelmed him again. The feelings of love. The feelings of fatherhood. 

Then, like a dam bursting giving way to a flood, the questions that had been growing in his mind for days burst forth.

When was it acceptable for her to start walking? When was she going to need to know how to read? How would he tell if she was behind? What would he do then? What if she was ahead? Would she have athletic tendencies? Were there things in her family’s medical history that could come back to haunt? At what point would she say her first word?

This question stopped him. It was the one he knew the answer to.

But instead of lingering on the numerous questions he had about  _ that _ , it changed to something even more pressing: when did  _ he _ need learn sign language by in order to teach her?

“Yesterday. I should have started learning yesterday,” he muttered to himself. “I need to go buy books and- and start…”

He took a deep breath. His stomach growled. 

“I need to eat something. And finish moving in the boxes and feed to cats and feed you. One thing at a time. We’re okay. We’ve got time. I can start learning tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, beforr you say anything, according to the bio for Giles that GDT wrote that is featured in the art book for TSOW, Giles' real name was Gilbert Pratt. He eventually changed it to Giles DuPont. So that's why his parents are calling him Gilbert.


	3. Chapter 3

Andrew Nemes used to enjoy the quiet monotony of bookselling. 

He enjoyed the fact that he could perform his morning routine the same way every day. He enjoyed the fact that if he looked up at the clock over his desk after he opened up the store, it would read the same time every day. He enjoyed that Tuesdays meant new shipments of books, that Thursday meant he had to run payroll, and that Saturday meant he needed to make a new “Owner’s Choice” display for the coming week (as he closed the store on Sunday).

He liked brief chats with customers, and reading the newspaper at his desk. He liked the tinkle of the bell on the door, and locking up every night to go home. 

This was his life, and up until recently, he felt nothing wrong with it. But as of late, this life seemed different. Incorrect almost. 

This is what he told himself, at least. The  _ world _ was off. Not him. He was perfectly okay and absolutely nothing was wrong or different about him in the slightest. 

That was a lie.

Andrew had always found women very attractive. He loved watching them laugh. He loved the way their hair bounce as they walked and the way they smiled. That attraction had never been in question.

But then something changed. Well… not changed. That attraction remained. But something new had been added to it.

It had started when an older Italian man came in the store. He was like any typical grandfather, looking for a gift for his granddaughter. But he certainly didn’t  _ look _ like a grandfather. His hair was just starting to gray around the ears, the wrinkles near his eyes still mostly laugh lines. His accented English was nice to listen to, and Andrew could tell by talking to him that he was a man of the world. 

Andrew helped him find a nice book for his granddaughter, and as the man went to left, he winked back at the bookseller and Andrew could have sworn the floor dropped out from beneath him.

Andrew had sworn it was a fluke. The man was just a nice customer, and he had reacted that way simply because he was so nice. 

But there was more to it, and he could try and deny it all he wanted, but this event had just cracked open the door. Soon, memories and realizations flooded to him. Telling himself that he had definitely felt attraction to women had temporarily abated his fears. That was until a little voice in his head said  _ just because you like women doesn’t mean you  _ can’t _ like men too… _

And then he was terrified. 

That had been well over a month ago. Since then, he had broken his routine. He spent more time in his office. He did things on the wrong day. He completed tasks too early or too late. His employees had noticed. 

He could tell himself the world was off all he wanted, but this change in behavior was no mere coincidence. 

As he slid the key into the lock, his mind couldn’t get off the fact that there were two full hours until his register girl would come in. That meant any customers that came in between then and now would be left to him. 

He started his daily tasks behind the counter as the bell tinkled on the door in front him. Andrew looked up and his gut clenched. 

A nice-looking young man in a sweater and tie had just entered. On his nose sat spectacles, which glittered in the sunlight through the window as he leaned over to peruse one of the displays. 

“Uh, can-can I help you sir?” he asked quietly. 

The man looked up at him and smiled. Andrew’s gut clenched again.

“Yes. Sorry. Got distracted by… I like F. Scott Fitzgerald’s work a lot so I was curious when the sign said ‘you might also like this’... Sorry.”

“Oh no it’s fine,” Andrew said, waving him on. “That’s why they’re there. To explore. Please. Take a look.”

“As much as I’d love to, I’m actually here on a mission.”

“Oh. Well then. How can I help you?”

“Do you have any books on sign language?” the man asked, his tone changing from jovial to serious.

Andrew blinked. 

“On… what?”

“Sign language. American Sign Language. Do you have any? Books I mean,” the man clarified. “I realized a few months ago that I’ve got to learn it so I can teach my daughter. She can hear, but she won’t be able to talk. You know, when she’s old enough. Right now she’s only four months old, so I’ve got a little time before she needs to learn it, but I’ve got to learn it first. I’m sorry. I’m talking really fast.”

“Oh no. You’re fine,” Andrew said. “As for the books, I’m not sure. I’d guess that if we do, they’d probably be in the language section? Over here. I’ll show you.”

He opened a section of the counter to walk through, and then led the man to the foreign language section near the back corner. 

They both scanned the bookshelves in silence for a moment.

“I don’t see any. Do you?” the man asked, as he continued to search.

“I don’t either. But let me check my catalogue. There might be something to order.”

With that, Andrew excused himself from the area to head back behind the counter. He pulled out one of the catalogues and set it down in front of him as the man joined him. 

Andrew searched the catalogue, periodically flipping to a new section to run his finger down the list, before he closed the large book and sighed. 

“I’m sorry sir. I don’t see anything available for order.”

The man sighed deeply. 

“Well. Thank you. I appreciate it,” the man said, with a sad chuckle. “You’re the first who has offered to order it. I hoped maybe… Ah well. I’ll keep trying I guess. Thank you. You have a good one.”

The man smiled weakly and turned back towards the door. 

“Uh, sir,” Andrew said, his heart in his throat. 

The man turned back around, his brow raised.

“Yes?”

“I… I could try to call around. There might be other stores that have them here in town.”

“Unfortunately not,” the man replied. “I’ve already check all the others. You were my last hope. But I do appreciate it. Really. Anyways, I’ve got to head to work. I saved your store for last because it’s the closest to the office and therefore the easiest to get to. Well. Take care. And thank you again.”

And with that, the man left. 

Andrew watched him turn right at the sidewalk. Quickly, and doing his best not to be noticed, he ran to the window to watch where the man went. He managed to catch sight of the man entering the door of the ad agency down the street before he disappeared. 

Then, with more purpose than he had felt in years, Andrew ran back to the counter. He skidded to a halt right as he opened the counter, and spun on his heel towards the local section. He pulled the city directory he sought from the shelf and then ran back towards the counter. 

He flipped pages with one hand as the other pulled a piece of stationary from under the counter. 

He took it straight to the typewriter on his desk and started typing furiously. 

Two weeks later, as soon as the mail came, he barely got two words out to Lana at the cash register before he sprinted out the door and down the street. 

Panting, he pushed the door to the ad agency open. The receptionist behind the desk eyed him suspiciously. 

“Can I help you?”

“Yes. I’m looking for- oh shit. I don’t know his name. Sorry. Uh, he’s about average height, brown hair. Kind of thinning? And he wears glasses-”

“Sounds like you’re describing me,” a voice from behind him said. 

Andrew spun to see the man he had talked to at the store entering the lobby from an office nearby. He had an unlit cigarette in his fingers and he seemed on his way outside. 

“Yes. Yes. I was looking for you. I’m Andrew. From the bookshop down the street-”

“Yes I remember you,” he said. “Giles. I was about to step out for a smoke. Join me?”

“Uh, yes,” Andrew said with a nod. 

He followed Giles out the front door and off to the side a little. 

“You smoke outside? Building got a policy or something?”

“Nah. I’m an artist. The whole room is full of papers and vapors. I don’t like to smoke where I work. You make a mistake once and you learn forever.”

“I see.”

“So what do I owe the pleasure?” Giles asked after taking a drag on the cigarette. “I take it this visit is not just to learn my name and my smoking habits.”

“Ah yes. I mean no. It isn’t. I have something for you.”

Andrew held out the book wrapped in brown paper and string towards the man opposite him. 

Giles took it, his brow furrowed slightly. Stubbing out the cigarette on the wall nearby, he tossed the butt to the ground and stomped on it before tearing the paper off.

Underneath the paper was a hardbound book. It was roughly the size of a textbook. Golden embossed words on the cover read  _ Manual Sign Dictionary _ . Giles opened it. Inside were hundreds of drawings of hand shapes.

Giles looked up, stunned.

“But I thought you couldn’t order-”

“I couldn’t. But I wrote a letter to the School for the Deaf and told them what you told me. ABout your daughter. And I asked if they had a dictionary or anything, and they sent that back to me.”

“This is… this is,” Giles said, his breathing hard. “What do I owe them?”

“They didn’t ask for any payment. The letter they wrote back said they were more than happy to help in any way they could.”

“Okay, well then what do I owe you?” Giles pressed. “For getting this for me.”

“Oh. Nothing. It was my pleasure.”

“Oh come on. You went to all this trouble. Plus you’re The least I can do is compensate you. How does $3 sound? Reasonable?”

It took a moment for Andrew to register how serious this Giles was about paying him. He accepted the bills handed to him from the man’s wallet and for a moment wondered what he was going to do with them. His bottom line seemed the furthest thing from his mind. 

“Thank you so, so much,” Giles repeated, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe this man would really do so much for him. 

“I hope it’s worthwhile. For you. And your daughter,” Andrew said. “And I included the business card sent back to me in the front. If you need to contact them for any reason.”

“Wonderful. I’ll hang on to that just in case. And I’ll be sure to crack this open during lunch and get to work,” Giles said. He looked up from the book to Andrew, who could swear there were tears in his eyes. “I so, so appreciate this Andrew. Really. I’m not just saying that.” 

And he wasn’t.

Andrew received a hand painted thank-you card at his store a few days later. Followed by a visit from Giles once again, thanking him in person. 

The visits continued once every few weeks. Giles would come in either on his way to work or on his way home. He’d peruse the bookshelves for a little while before approaching Andrew at the front counter. He’d provide Andrew with any updates on his daughter Elisa’s development, maybe ask about a recent book release, and then say goodbye. 

Andrew found himself looking forward to the visits, even more so as he realized Giles hadn’t actually _purchased_ anything in months. A flutter grew in his stomach as his brain put the pieces together: Giles hadn’t visited to shop; he’d visited to _see_ _him._

However, he’d never actually seen this daughter. He knew a lot about her, but, as he often stopped by on the way to or from work, Giles never had the young girl with him (‘she’s with my mother’).  More than once, Andrew wondered if there really  _ was  _ a daughter. But he decided that it was too much of a lie to maintain for what, by now, had been over eight months worth of visits.

As Andrew took a walk through the nearby park on his lunch break one April Saturday, he got his chance. 

He had just taken a seat on a bench on one side of the duck pond when he spotted a familiar face across the water. 

Giles was seated on a short stool, an easel open in front of him. Sitting on a blanket on the ground nearby was a young girl, about a year old or so. She was content to play with the wooden blocks in front of her, but at one point, she got to her feet and started toddling towards the pond. 

Andrew watched as Giles quickly jumped from his seat and snatched her back from the water’s edge. 

He rose to his feet and started his way around the pond towards the pair. By the time he made it over, Giles had returned to painting and the girl was playing on the blanket once more. 

“Giles!” Andrew called out, waving as he neared their little set-up. 

His heart started beating really fast when Giles lit up upon seeing him. 

“Andrew! Good to see you,” Giles greeted. 

He stood from his stool and stepped forward to shake Andrew’s hand. Elisa looked up from her seat on the ground.

“You off today?” Andrew asked.

“Yes. This one’s a personal piece,” Giles said, nodding towards the easel. “You?”

“Not today. I just wanted to take a walk during my lunch break. Weather’s too nice to stay indoors.”

“I agree, I agree,” Giles said. “Oh. This is my daughter Elisa.”

Giles swept Elisa into his arms. 

“Elisa, this is daddy’s friend Andrew. Can you say hi?”

Elisa looked at Andrew and then back to Giles, her brow furrowed. Then she raised a hand and waved.

“Well hello. I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to meet you.”

Elisa looked back to her father and then hid her face in his neck.

“A bit shy I guess?” Andrew chuckled

Giles nodded, and if Andrew wasn’t mistaken, there was a little bit of annoyance in his eyes. It passed quickly, and Giles put Elisa back down on the ground.

“She’s adorable.”

“Yeah, she is, isn’t she?” Giles said with a smile. “When she’s not getting into trouble. I’m just kidding. She’s a good girl.”

As if interested in proving her father wrong, Elisa started towards the pond once more. With the adults distracted, she  _ almost _ made it to the water before…

“No, no, no. I said  _ no _ ,” Giles said as he snatched her and threw her over his shoulder. “I told you three times. It is still too cold to play in the water. We’re going home.”

Andrew watched as the girl kept reaching towards the water, even as her dad moved away from it. Every so often her hands would make shapes in the air before she would reach her hands out again.

“I apologize for cutting this visit so short, but it seems that we’ve lost our park privileges for the day,” Giles said in a very formal informatory tone, more for the toddler in his arms than for Andrew.

Andrew assisted in gathering up Giles’ supplies and putting them in his bag. He carried it to Giles’ car for him, as he was getting more and more distracted by what now had turned into a silent tantrum from Elisa.

“Well. I guess I’ll see you again whenever you decide to drop by,” Andrew said as Giles put his daughter in the back seat of the car.

“Yes. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Well, are you busy tonight?” 

“What do you mean?” Andrew said, his tone suspicious to keep from revealing how excited this question made him feel. 

“Well I just thought, you know if you weren’t busy, you may be interested in joining us for dinner. It’s just the two of us. And I can say I’ve become a decent cook.”

“I’d be delighted to join you. What time?” 

“Well, she’ll eat probably around five because I have to put her down-”

“Five is great for me,” Andrew interrupted. 

Giles paused, frowning slightly. 

“But doesn’t the store close at seven-thirty?”

“Oh. Well… yes…” Andrew said slowly. “But I can get the cashier to close. She’s got keys. It’ll be fine.”

Giles eyebrows rose in surprise. 

“Oh. Well then that works out well. We’ll see you around five then. Here’s my address. When you come up the stairs, you’ll come in through the red door and go down the hall. We’re in the apartment on the right.”

Andrew took the offered scrap of paper Giles had seemingly pulled from thin air and scribbled on. 

“Wonderful. I’ll see you tonight.”

 

Andrew was at the door to the apartment at 4:55p, having always lived under the idea that you have to be early to being early. 

He had picked up a thing of flowers on the way, which he was now panicking about. Was that the wrong move? Could he try to spin it as just a thank-you-for-inviting-me-to-your-house-type gesture? Would Giles buy that? What if he was just inviting him over for dinner, no implications attached?

The door opened in front of him.

“Are those for me?” Giles said as he ushered Andrew inside. 

“Uh. Well. They’re for you and uh, Elisa. For your home, I mean. For having me over to your home,” Andrew stammered. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course. As I said. It’s the two of us. And we don’t get much in the way of guests,” Giles explained. 

“Oh. Well. I understand that. I let a room in a boarding house. It’s cheap and, you know… I live alone too. I mean it’s just me. I understand..,” Andrew said. He gulped, his heart pounding. “What about the, uh, apartment across the hall? Does anyone live there?”

“Not anymore. There was a man for a little while when we first moved in, but he moved out a long time ago.”

“So it’s vacant?” 

“Yes,” Giles replied.

In the open space on the floor in front of the sofa, Elisa played with a few toys. Andrew smiled nervously. She stared back at him, giving him the uncomfortable feeling of being scrutinized. He had to remind himself more than once that she was, in fact, a  _ toddler _ , and was not judging him (so he thought).

“So dinner’s almost done. Just needs a couple more minutes. Feel free to make yourself at home,” Giles offered. 

He adjusted the blanket draped across the back of the sofa, and indicated for Andrew to take a seat. Andrew did so, though his mind was racing.

“Something wrong?” Giles asked as he handed Andrew a snifter of brandy.

“No, no. Just still thinking about the apartment. Across the hall.”

“Why? You looking for somewhere to move?”

“Not actively,” Andrew said quickly. “But I always think about it. You know. When I visit nice places, like this one. And there’s something for rent. I always think about it.”

Both men took sips of their drink as silence hung in the air.

“Though I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Andrew said quickly. “Since you just invited me for dinner, and now I’m talking about moving in across the hall. I mean renting across the- I’m sorry. This is just ridiculous. I’m so sorry. I’ll stop.”

“No, no,” Giles chuckled. He clapped Andrew on the shoulder, which made Andrew’s chest pang. “I’d be more than happy to have you as a neighbor. I like you a lot. I mean… I consider you a good friend.”

“I like you a lot. Too. As a good friend,” Andrew replied quickly. 

It was at that moment that his brain registered that Giles’ hand was still resting on his shoulder and short circuited. 

Andrew’s hand rose to Giles’. Giles expected him to push it off, and braced himself for the yelling. But instead, it just rested there. The men looked each other in the eye.

Andrew was the first to pull away. 

“I’m sorry. I should- I should go. I’m really-”

“No. No. Stay. Please.”

They made eye contact once more. 

“You haven’t had dinner yet,” Giles offered. “Stay for dinner at least. I made too much food. We can’t eat it all.”

So Andrew stayed for dinner. 

And he returned the next day. And the next. And the next. Before long, all he had to do was knock gently on the door before coming inside. 

And that’s how Andrew Nemes moved into the loft apartment above the Orpheum Theatre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you've met Andrew! Our bashful, bisexual bookseller. He's going to be very important in the chapters to come. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos. I have a lot planned for this here fanfiction, and I can't wait to share it with you :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm so involved in developing this (like I'm planning Elisa's adulthood I'm so far ahead) that I am totally neglecting my other AU. So if you happen to be reading this one and the other one, just know that I haven't forgotten about it and I fully intend on writing more. I just have so much of this planned I gotta get it out onto, well, the Internet so I don't lose it.
> 
> Happy reading!

Giles adjusted the heat on the stove, bringing the water down to a boil. 

Andrew lay on the couch, and every once in a while, Giles watched as two-and-a-half year old Elisa was thrown up in the air over the couch, only to be caught by two outstretched arms and brought back down.

He could hear Andrew make silly noises as he pulled her into his arms which caused breathy quiet giggles from Elisa. 

“More? You want me to do that again?” Andrew asked as Elisa’s little hands came together in front of him. 

He obliged and tossed her up again, causing more silent shrieks and laughter. 

Once he had set her back down again, she wriggled off the couch and ran to the nearby bookshelf. Andrew watched as she considered her choice carefully and then pulled a book off the shelf. 

_ Daddy read the book, _ she signed after climbing back up onto the couch.

“Giles, she’s asking for you to read the book,” Andrew interpreted. 

“Elisa hunny I can’t read it right now. I’ll read it later.”

Elisa looked from the direction of the voice and then back to Andrew. Then she shook her head seriously and signed again. But this time, as she signed “daddy” she pointed at Andrew.

He froze. 

She pushed the book towards him.

“Uh. I actually, just remembered. I need, uh, I need daddy to help me get something from my apartment, okay? We’ll be right back.”

Andrew jumped off the couch, Elisa watching him closely, and ran towards where GIles stood in the kitchen.

“What are you talking-“

“Come with me,” Andrew said in a low, urgent voice.

“But the pasta-”

“ _ Giles _ .”

“Okay, okay,” Giles said, putting his slotted spoon down on the counter. 

They stepped out into the hall, closing the door on a very confused Elisa. 

Giles continued forward as if he was going to Andrew’s apartment, but Andrew grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. 

“I thought you said we needed-”

“What does this sign mean?” Andrew said, cutting him off. 

He opened his palm so his fingers were spread wide, his thumb touching his forehead and then pulled it away in front of him.

“Dad. Father. Daddy. All that. But you know that… What happened? Did she say something about me?”

“No, no,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “She said something about  _ me _ . Giles, she called  _ me  _ dad.”

Giles raised an eyebrow. 

“She did?”

“Yes. Just now. When I said she wanted you to read the book, because she signed daddy. And when you said you couldn’t, she shook her head and signed it again and pointed at me. When she signed ‘daddy’, she pointed at me,” Andrew explained. “Giles. I’m so sorry. I’ve been around too much and now she’s too much and she thinks  _ I’m  _ her dad. But I’m not.  _ You _ are and we need to correct her and explain it and-”

“Hold on,” Giles said, holding up a hand. “You think she meant that I’m not dad and you are?”

“Yes. Of course. What else would she have meant by that?” Andrew hissed. “Clearly, I’ve messed something up. I’ve encroached on your relationship and I’m so sorry. I never meant that. I just like coming over and I love you and I love her, but I never meant for anything like this to happen. Please don’t be mad.”

Giles rubbed a hand across his chin. His expression was hard to read. 

“Oh no,” Andrew said in a quiet voice. “You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Giles moaned. “I’m just- hold on, okay? I’m thinking. Relax.”

Andrew did not do as suggested, but he did remain quiet as Giles contemplated. After a moment, Giles nodded and looked up at Andrew.

“Okay. I’m going to explain myself in a moment, but first I want you to know that I love you very much and I’m not mad at you. Okay?”

Andrew nodded, gulping. 

“I don’t think she meant what she signed the way you interpreted it.”

Andrew gave him a look of confusion.

“What?”

“Okay. And hear me out because this is going to sound strange, but I don’t think she was saying ‘he’s not daddy, you are’. I think she was saying ‘not  _ that _ daddy,  _ you _ daddy’.”

“Again… what?”

“Okay. Who am I?”

Andrew blinked. 

“You’re… Giles. You’re her dad.”

“Exactly. And I… get her up in the morning and feed her and take care of her and love her and scold her and all that,” Giles explained. “I’ve always done that. But then you started coming around. And you started to feed her and take care of her and love her and everything that I do. You do it too.”

“Okay…” Andrew said slowly. 

“So… maybe,” Giles said, thinking out loud. “Maybe ‘daddy’... is a title. Not a person. ‘Daddy’ is someone who takes care of he and plays with her and gets upset when she breaks the rules. So, I am daddy… and so are you.”

“But I’m not,” Andrew added quickly. “ _ You  _ are her dad, and I’m not.”

Giles frowned. 

“Do you not want to be her dad?”

“Giles, it’s not a matter of if I want it or not. It’s a matter of if I  _ am _ . And I’m not.”

“But you could be.”

“No I can’t,” Andrew said again. “I am not her dad. You are.”

“Andrew-”

“Please don’t say it again,” Andrew asked. 

His voice was so quiet, so serious, Giles couldn’t help but pause.

“Andrew,” Giles said softly. “How did you feel when she signed that to you? When you first thought she could be calling you daddy?”

“Shocked. Scared. Confused,” Andrew answered, his tone urgent. 

Giles held up a hand. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “Now to me how you really felt.”

Andrew’s  heart, which so far had been threatening to beat out of his chest, instead decided to take up residence in his throat. 

He wanted to tell the truth but as he tried, he felt his chest heave, which was enough to stop the words from coming out. 

But he couldn’t stop the tears. 

“Elated,” he choked out. “It was the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

Tears filled Giles’ eyes.

“Now that doesn’t sound like a man who doesn’t want to be her dad.”

“Giles I can’t.”

“Why  _ not? _ ” Giles asked imploringly. 

“Because…” Andrew struggled to find the words. “Because there’s no precedent for this.”

“What?”

“There’s no… I can’t read about two men raising a child in a book. There  _ are no books _ . I don’t know of anyone who has done this, or anyone who is even like us! It just doesn’t happen and-”

“And you want to have the answers first.”

“I like knowing what’s coming,” Andrew stated. “And… And…”

“And you can’t research this,” Giles finished. 

Andrew nodded. 

Giles smiled gently, and stepped forward. He put a hand on Andrew’s face, cupping his cheek. 

“Everything about this… You and me…. Me and her… None of this is what I had predicted or anticipated and yet, we’re still here. We’re okay. Andrew, my love, it will be okay. We’ll learn together. Now,” Giles said, raising an eyebrow. “If you want to do this- if you want to be her dad, you have to commit to it. Not to me. It doesn’t matter what happens between us… I mean it does, but no matter what, you have to commit to  _ her _ . If you want to do this, you have to be ready to be in it for life.”

Andrew placed a hand over Giles’, which still rested on his cheek. 

“I’ve had dreams,” Andrew said quietly. “Of being with you. Of sitting next to you as we watch her graduate. And I always woke up disappointed. Because I thought they’d never be real. That they couldn’t be real.”

Giles smiled, the tears dripping from the corners of his eyes. 

“Then we’ll both be her dad. Together.”

“As long as you’re completely okay with it,” Andrew pressed. 

“Andrew, you just said that you love me and you love my daughter and that you want to see her grow up. This is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”

Giles placed his forehead against Andrew’s. They stood for a moment, their tears dripping slowly on to the wooden floor beneath them. 

Andrew was the first of the pair to wrap his arms around the other. Giles followed, and they stood in an embrace for a long moment before Giles kissed him and they broke apart, chuckling to themselves as they wiped away their tears.

“We should probably go in before she sets something on fire,” Giles chuckled softly as he replaced his glasses on his nose.

“She’s not into fire. I think she’s more likely to try and play in the sink and flood the place,” Andrew said as he went to open the door.

“You’ve got a point there.”

Elisa was waiting for them in front of the door, her little arms crossed to match the adorable expression of anger on her face. 

_ Give me it,  _  she signed, her hands raised over her head towards Andrew.

“Give you what? I don’t have anything.”

_ You went to get something. What did you get? _ she signed again.

“Nothing. I couldn’t find it,” Andrew replied with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes and opened and closed her hands again.

“I told you I don’t have anything. I promise,” Andrew insisted. “Unless you count… tickles!”

With that, Andrew scooped Elisa up into his arms and began tickling her. 

Giles beamed as Andrew carried Elisa to the couch all the while making noises and tickling her. Her face was showed a look of both pleasure and fear (which was common during bouts of tickling). 

He returned to the stove, happy to find the pasta had been simmering nicely during their chat and that it was almost ready.

_ Daddy read the book?  _ she asked again after Andrew dropped her onto the couch and she had regained control of her breathing.

“Me?” he asked. She nodded and repeated the signs ‘daddy-you’. “Of course, my dear.”

Andrew had barely sat down before Elisa climbed into his lap with the book. He obliged, careful to careful to read every line, no matter how much he wanted to go faster (they read it every single night and she  _ knew _ if you skipped anything).

Following dinner, the three of them read a few more books (including the same one once more) before Andrew bade them both a goodnight. That left Giles to give Elisa a bath and put her to bed.

Given the fact that the apartment was a studio, it did not allow for Elisa to have her own room. Instead, Giles set up a removable screen between his bed and the back corner that gave a little separation while still allowing him to hear if she got up in the middle of the night.

“Alright. There you go. Now snuggle up tight. It’s gonna get cold tonight,” he murmured as she shimmied under the blankets. “And here’s your blanket.”

He picked up the fallen piece of cloth that had once been her swaddle off of the floor and handed it to her. She hugged it close to her, and he watched as her eyes grew heavy. She turned over.

He stroked her hair lovingly for a few moments. Then he felt the strong urge to ask.

“Elisa?” 

She rolled over from her curled-up position to face him. 

“Hunny, you know how much I love you, right?”

She nodded. 

“Do you know that Andrew loves you that much too?”

Elisa nodded. One small hand poked out from under the blanket.

_ That’s why he’s daddy too.  _

“I  _ knew _ that’s what you meant,” Giles chuckled softly. “And you’re okay with having two daddies?”

Elisa nodded, though her brow was furrowed. For a moment, he wondered if she had a problem with it, or had questions. And indeed, she pulled both hands out for the next sign.

_ Hard. _

Giles’ heart started beating really fast. 

“Why is it hard?”

_ Same sign. Have to point a lot. _

“Ah. I see,” Giles said, letting out a relieved chuckle. “How about this. When you’re talking about Andrew, sign ‘daddy-A’. Can you do that?”

Elisa nodded, and performed the signs to prove it. Giles smiled.

“Perfect. And now when you’re talking about me, sign ‘daddy-G’. Can you do that?”

Elisa nodded again, and repeated the sign again, this time with the letter ‘g’ at the end. 

“How’s that? Is that better?”

Elisa nodded.

“Wonderful. Goodnight my love.”

_ Goodnight daddy. _

Giles smiled at the sign, the one just for him, and kissed her on the forehead. He reached up and turned off the lamp on the small table beside her bed. 

In the dim glow from the lamp on the other side of the divider, he could just make out her small form turning over and cuddling with the blanket as he walked away. 

As he pulled down the Murphy bed, his mind immediately jumped to being lonely. 

He considered this. The speed of which his mind went there made it seem almost as if it was a gut reaction. Like for so, so long, that’s what his mind had trained itself to do, so as soon as it had the chance, it wanted to think about that. 

But even as he laid down and his mind started to drift towards those thoughts, he heard Elisa’s quiet, rhythmic breathing close by. And he could hear the quiet creaking of the wood floor in the hallway as Andrew went out for one last smoke before bed.

His daughter was nearby. His lover was across the hall. He had everything he needed. 

He didn’t even have to try to push the thoughts out after that. They left of their own accord. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo when I first started this fic, my original headcanon was of Giles raising Elisa as a single gay dad. But then I started really developing it, and I came up with Andrew... and now Elisa has  _two_ gay dads (well one bi, one gay; you won't get any bi erasure from me). Anways, she has two dads! And they're happy and I hope I'm not veering  _too_ far off from what you came here to read. I just thought Giles deserved some happiness too. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for all your comments and kudos! I might even get another chapter up tonight before I go to bed. We'll see... otherwise it'll be up probably tomorrow. Anyways, thank you and I hope you're still enjoying it!
> 
>  


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! Two chapters in one night. Now I really need to go to bed.  
> Enjoy!

“Alright. Have you got your lunch?” Giles asked nervously and for the fourth time since he, Andrew, and Elisa had stopped outside elementary school in their neighborhood.

Elisa held it up once again. 

“And the letter?”

She patted the right side pocket of her dress.

“Good. Good.”

“Giles stop asking her questions or she’s going to get scared,” Andrew muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

“I know, I know,” Giles replied. “I’m just excited.”

_ And scared? _

“Yes. And scared.”

Elisa frowned.

_ Is school scary? _

“No, no, hunny,” Giles reassured. “I’m just scared because going to school means you’re a big girl and I’m scared of you growing up.”

“It’s just a dad thing, E. Ignore him.”

Elisa looked to Andrew. 

_ Are you scared? _

“Not at all. You’re going to do great.”

“Yes. You’re going to do so, so good,” Giles echoed.

A bell rang. Giles glanced down at his watch: 8:50am. He knelt down in front of Elisa so he was roughly at her eye level. He spoke as he adjusted the new headband on her head that held back her bangs.

“Alright hunny. Be kind. Be good. Work hard. Okay?”

Elisa nodded.

“Okay. I love you so much, hunny. Good luck.”

He opened his arms and Elisa threw herself forward to hug him. He did his best to wipe his tears away  _ before  _ she let go. 

“Alright. Go on. You don’t want to be late. Oh, and Elisa. I’ll be right here waiting when you get done okay? Meet me right here. By the flagpole.”

Elisa nodded, though she was backing up towards the school. He gave her one more wave, which she returned, before turning and running inside. 

Andrew and Giles waited for another couple minutes until the final bell rang. Once it signaled, Giles let out a huge sigh as the pair turned for the sidewalk.

“God I need a drink.”

“It’s not even nine am.”

“And I need a drink,” Giles repeated. 

“Well I’ve got to go open the store,” Andrew said. “Are you going in to work or not?”

“No. I took a personal day. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done at work today. I’m going to be too worried.”

“Come on Giles,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes. “You’re acting like me. Being all worried and neurotic. She’s going to be fine. She’s nice to people, she’s good at her numbers. Hell, she even reads on her own. She’ll be the smartest kid in class. She’ll be fine.”

“I know  _ she  _ will but… Kids are mean.”

“Well, if any of them punch her, I think she’ll punch them back,” Andrew said as they hit the sidewalk and turned in the direction of the main street. 

“Andrew that’s not-” Giles sighed. “Okay. I’ll give you that. If someone punches our strong-willed daughter who has a moral compass all her own,  _ yes.  _ I do not doubt that she would punch them back. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the words. And the names. Andrew, I think I’ve sheltered her too much and what if-”

“I know, I know. We’ve had this discussion before,” Andrew said sheepishly as he paused at the corner to part ways. “There will probably be something to deal with at some point. But don’t go making problems before they exist. It’s not good for anybody.”

Giles let out a deep breath, removing his glasses to rub his nose.

“And for the record, I was trying to make you laugh. I thought you might get a kick out of the thought of Elisa punching somebody.”

Giles rolled his eyes as he replaced his glasses.

“Are you kidding me? If she punches someone on the first day, I don’t think they’d let her come back.”

The two men shared a laugh over this, both imagining the quiet yet feisty three-and-a-half foot tall five year old trying to hold her own in a fight. 

“I’m going to go open up. I’ll see you around five thirty or so?”

“Okay. I’m going to go back to bed.”

“You do that.”

With that, Andrew turned left towards the downtown. 

 

Inside, Elisa found room number three.

There were about twenty-five children in the class, some seated at long wooden tables and some still milling around. 

It had been almost a year since the stock market crashed, and the effects were starting to be felt. 

Andrew’s bookshop had become a glorified newsstand. No one had money for books, but they could spare a couple pennies for the news. Giles’ ad agency was one of the first to go, but thanks to a some good professional contacts, he’d quickly been grabbed by the local newspaper. It paid far less, but they could still eat and pay rent on both apartments. 

Some of the children in the class might not have been so lucky.

Elisa spotted an empty seat she wanted to fill, but just as she turned to go claim it, she remembered the letter in her pocket. 

She approached the teacher.

“Good morning dear. We’ll start in just a moment. Go take your seat.”

Elisa pulled out the letter and stood on her tiptoes to place it on the desk.

“Oh? For me?” 

Elisa nodded. 

The teacher picked up the envelope. On the front, in careful looping handwriting read  _ Ms. Marshall. _

She tore open the envelope and removed the letter inside. 

_ Dear Ms. Marshall, _

_ If you’re reading this, then my daughter has followed my directions in delivering this to you. Thank goodness. _

_ My name is Giles DuPont and the young lady in front of you is my daughter Elisa. She’s a very clever and quick-witted young lady, but she is known to daydream, so feel free to correct her as necessary. When she’s engaged, she’s engaged. Sometimes you just have to get her there.  _

_ I wanted to send this ahead with her just to let you know that Elisa is mute. She communicates by sign language first and foremost. However, as you and the students probably don’t know sign language, know that she can write things down too. It might be easier in the long run for all parties if you learned some of the signs, and I’d be happy to loan you a book if you’d like.  _

_ Please let me know if there’s any questions or concerns you have. You can send them home with Elisa or call me at the number on the enclosed business card.  _

_ Thank you very much and good luck! _

_ Best,  _ _  
_ _ Giles DuPont _

There was a scribbled signature at the bottom of the page as well as the promised card tucked within the envelope.

Ms. Marshall looked from the letter to the little girl in front of her. 

“Um. Alright. Why don’t you go and take your seat?”

Elisa nodded and practically skipped towards the desks.

More children had since sat down, so the only seats available were towards the back. Something told her she should sit in the middle, but the seat on the far left side was near the window and that was  _ far _ more enticing, so she chose it instead.

The bell rang, causing half the students to jump. 

“Good morning class. My name is Ms. Marshall and I’m so happy that you all are here today. Now, first things first. When I say ‘good morning, class’, I expect you all to respond ‘good morning, Ms. Marshall’. Do you understand? Let’s try it. Good morning, class.”

“Good morning, Ms. Marshall,” the class chimed in reply. 

Automatically, Elisa signed right along with them. The kid next to her looked over at her curiously, and, unbeknownst to Elisa so far back in the room, Ms. Marshall’s eye twitched.

“Wonderful. Very good, class. Now. Let’s go over some rules. This here is our rule list. Our first rule is to always be on time. The bell rings first at ten minutes before the start of class and again when class starts. The second rule is…”

Ms. Marshall continued to talk about rules. She was doing something strange, Elisa felt, by pointing out each word individually and reading the words carefully. Why was she doing that? Taking all that time? All she needed to do was give them a minute and they’d read it. 

She already had. Twice. 

The other kids were paying close attention to the teacher. They didn’t seem to notice this strange pace at all. Some were looking around or fidgeting, but it didn’t seem to be for the same reason she was.

“And finally, please make sure you wipe your feet on the rug when you enter the classroom. I do not want dirty footprints all over the floor. Do you understand? And class, when I ask you questions like that, I expect you to reply with ‘yes, Ms. Marshall’. Do you understand, class?”

“Yes, Ms. Marshall,” the class replied.

“Good. Moving on.”

This time, when Elisa signed, a few other kids took notice. None of them stared for long, but this time it did not go unnoticed by Elisa. 

The rest of the morning passed rather slowly. Ms. Marshall had started the day by teaching letter and numbers, and by the sound of it, this was going to be their subject matter for a while. Elisa grew so bored, she almost put her head down, but decided against it. 

It wasn’t long after this though that Elisa realised she needed to go to the bathroom. She was ready to just get up and go, when she remembered there was a rule about that. 

She scanned the rules list hanging near the board until she found the one she was looking for:  _ Rule Four: If you need something, you  _ _ must _ _ raise your hand.  _

Simple enough. 

Her hand shot up into the air. 

Ms. Marshall noticed the movement and peered around for the source. 

“Yes… Elisa?”

_ May I go to the bathroom? _

Ms. Marshall frowned. Most of the class had turned to look at her at the silence that had followed Ms. Marshall’s question.

“I don’t understand what that means.”

Elisa’s eyes narrowed slightly. How did this woman not understand something as simple as that? 

So Elisa signed slower. 

_ May I … go to… the bathroom? _

Ms. Marshall could sense that the girl was slowing down on purpose, to make the teacher understand, and bristled. 

“I told you I do not understand. Now stop that and pay attention.”

Ms. Marshall turned quickly back to the board, her pointer stick slapping so hard against the blackboard that several children flinched.

She continued on with the lesson, and gradually the class’ attention refocused on her. 

But Elisa was still confused. 

How did she not understand? She’d signed it clearly enough. Sometimes even her dads had trouble following her if she signed too fast, but she’d slowed down. A  _ lot _ . So what was the problem?

At lunch, Elisa took the opportunity to slip out of the line and use the bathroom without being noticed. She returned just as the students were instructed to take a seat at a specific table in the cafeteria.

As she pulled out a hard-boiled egg from her lunch (that she had made by herself  _ thank you very much _ ) and a spoon to crack it open with, the stares of several hungry students did not go unnoticed. 

But when she tore part of her egg off and tried to hand it to them, they shied away. She tried again, but several of them gave her dirty looks. 

“Why did you do that thing with your hands earlier?” one boy near her at the table asked.

She set the egg down and lifted her hands. 

_ I talk using my hands. With sign language. _

To her confusion, several more of the kids shied away at this. 

“Why is she doing that?”

“I don’t know.”

“My daddy said that sometimes people do that thing with their hands when they can’t hear. Maybe she’s deaf.”

_ I’m not deaf _ .  _ I can hear you!  _ Elisa signed quickly.  _ I just can’t talk- _

“Maybe she’s sick. Sometimes when you get sick, you lose your voice.”

“I don’t want to get sick!”

“Well then stay away from her. She probably has  _ cooties. _ ”

The more she signed to negate their statements, the more attention she attracted. Even the children who weren’t saying anything were watching her now, as well as some from other tables too. 

She put her hands down and turned her attention to the egg in front of her. Her face felt very hot. 

Eventually, the kids started talking amongst themselves and their focused turned from her. Whether they intended to or not, most had scooted farther away from her, leaving her alone at the end of the bench.

It would be the first time this happened, but certainly not the last. 

 

“Oh hunny I missed you so much,” Giles said, greeting Elisa by scooping her up in a hug. “How did it go?”

When he had set her back down, she looked up at him. All he could read was mild confusion.

“Strange, huh?”

She looked at him for another moment before slowly nodding. 

“Well, I want to hear more about it, but let’s get home first. Here. Take my hand.”

Elisa took his offered hand and he led her down the sidewalk. 

“Now I just want you to know that I’m not usually going to be the one who picks you up, okay? I took today off of work, but usually I won’t, so Grandma will be here to pick you up. You and she will go back to Grandma’s house and then I will pick you up on my way home. Sound good?”

Elisa nodded.

Giles kept up some conversation as they continued home, but watching Elisa reply involved stopping (so as not to walk into anything), and it was easier to stay quiet and keep moving. 

“Okie doke. We’re home. Now. How was school?” Giles said the moment they stepped in the door.

Elisa sat down on the couch. Giles followed her and took a seat beside her. She still wore the same look of mild confusion.

“Did you give the teacher my note?”

Elisa nodded. She looked at him, her brow furrowed

“What’s wrong?” Giles asked, his tone growing more concerned. 

_ The teacher and the other students couldn’t understand me _ .

“Well, I expected they probably wouldn’t.”

Elisa cocked her head at this. 

_ Why not? _

“Well, most people don’t have any reason to. They don’t meet a lot of people who use it,” Giles explained. “I guess you’re not used to people not understanding you, are you?”

Elisa considered this. Giles imagined he could see the wheels turning in her head as she thought it through. 

_ Why? _

“Why what? Why are you not used to people not understanding you?”

_ No. Why do I sign? _

“Because you can’t talk. You know that.”

_ But why? _ She signed more firmly.

“Well…” Giles considered his words carefully. “So, there’s uh, here on your neck. There’s your airway. And behind that is the throat. And you swallow food in your throat and you breathe through your airway, and there’s part of your airway that vibrates when air goes over it. And when it vibrates that’s what makes sound. Does that make sense?”

Elisa nodded, her eyes eager for more information.

“So when you were a baby...A very little baby, right when you were born, you, you couldn’t breathe. So they had to open up your airway, to help you breathe. Because if you didn’t breathe, you were going to die. So they opened up your airway, but in order to that, they had to go through the part that makes the sound. They saved your life, but it meant you weren’t going to be able to talk.”

_ I still have it? _

“Your vocal cords? That’s what they’re called... vocal cords. And yes you do. They just, well hunny they don’t work.”

Elisa nodding, slower this time, as she took the new information in. 

“Do you have any, any questions? Or anything?”

Elisa paused for a moment and then shook her head. 

Giles nodded. He too paused, trying to figure out if he wanted to say anything else, before he patted her on the leg and stood up.

He made his way towards the kitchen to prepare dinner. He removed a piece of meat to carve from the icebox as he watched Elisa disappear behind the room divider.

Giles might have expected her to go pick out a book and return to the couch, but Elisa had other ideas.

She sat on her bed for a moment, thinking. Then she pulled a book from next to her bed and opened it.  

The words were clear on the page. She’d picked up reading very quickly, and it was one of her favorite activities. She thought of the sounds that her dads would make when she read to her. She considered the sounds assigned to the words in front of her. Forming the words with her mouth felt wrong, but made herself try it anyways. 

That was the easy part. 

Her dad had said that the vibrations were caused by air. She took in a deep breath, and pushed it out through her mouth. 

Nothing. 

She tried again, focusing harder on making the word on the page in front of her. She took a deeper breath and tried pushing it out even harder. 

“Elisa? Hunny?” Giles asked, after ten minutes without Elisa’s return. “Elisa?”

There was no answer. Normally, she would tap on the nearest thing to her twice to indicate she had heard him, but this time there was nothing.

Giles set down the knife on the cutting board, and walked towards the room divider. 

“Elisa? Elisa. Elisa hunny,” he exclaimed as he knelt in front of her.

Tears were streaming down her face, something that always concerned him, but what was worse is that her face had started to turn a very light shade of blue. He immediately thought of when he first found her and how that color indicated that she could be dying.

“Hunny, breathe for me. In and out. Please breathe. What happened? There you go. Breathe in and breathe out. Just like that. Good girl.”

Elisa took in several shaky breaths and the color began to fade. 

“Hunny, what happened? Are you okay?” 

She raised her hands. They were as shaky as her breaths and as shaky as he felt, which made her signs a little hard to read.

_ I wanted to try. _

“To try? To try what-”

He cut himself off as he connected her lack of air with the book in  front of him.

“Oh hunny,” he said. 

He moved to sit on her bed and pulled her onto his lap, hugging her as tight as he could.

“I’m sorry, Elisa. But it’s… it’s not something we can change. That’s just how it is,” Giles said softly as Elisa cried into his shoulder. “I take things were worse at school than just not being understood?”

Elisa nodded, though her face was still buried in his shoulder. He hugged her tighter, rubbing circles on her back. 

“Elisa, my love. Sometimes, there are things about us that we can’t change. Things that make us different. And my love, that’s just part of who we are. A small part, but still a part. Elisa, look at me.”

Elisa turned her head slightly, just enough that they could make eye contact, but not enough to remove herself from his shoulder.

“You my dear are so many things. You’re smart- God you’re so much smarter than the rest of us. And you’re kind and you’re brave and you’re mischievous,” Giles listed, adding a little tickle on the last one. “And you’re loving and yes, my dear, you can’t talk. That’s part of who you are. That and all the other things. They make you who you are and who you are my love is perfect. You are exactly who you’re supposed to be. Every single part of you is exactly who you’re supposed to be.

“And sometimes people can’t see that. They can’t see past that part that makes you different. They get hung up on it and sometimes they can be mean. But Elisa my love, remember this: those people? They don’t matter. The people who really love you and care for you- they’re always going to see that. They are going to see every part of you, perfectly put together, and they’re going to love you for everything you are.”

They just stayed there for a while, Elisa seated on his lap, Giles with his arms around her. He continued to rub circles on her back until she sat up and rubbed her eyes. He carefully removed her headband to sweep her hair back out of her eyes before replacing it on her head.

“Why don’t you lay down for a little while before daddy gets home, okay? Cuddle with your blanket.”

Elisa nodded and he lifted her off his lap and set her down on the mattress beside him. He kissed her on the forehead as he stood.

Just as he stepped back towards the kitchen, the lock on the door clicked. 

Quickly, Giles flew to the door, flipped the lock, and slid out.

“You know, I tried to make coming home early a surprise, but clearly you caught on pretty fast,” Andrew joked, removing his hat.

He made to reach for the doorknob, but Giles grabbed his arm.

“Hold on.”

“What’s wrong?”

Giles sighed, and moved his hand so it did not grip Andrew’s wrist, but his hand.

“Is it Elisa?”

“Yes. She had a rough day at school. I guess I didn’t do a good enough job warning her that the rest of the world wasn’t going to understand her signs. And there’s other stuff too I think. She came home asking why she couldn’t talk.”

“So did you tell her?”

“Yes. I explained to her-”

“Giles did you tell her the truth?”

Andrew made pointed eye contact with his partner, who stared him down for a moment, before sighing.

“Of course not. I hope I never have to tell her that.”

“You will someday-”

“Yes but not today. She’s five. I have time. And, and... “ Giles heaved the deepest sigh yet. “Andrew, she tried to talk and nearly suffocated herself she was using so much air. And I reminded her that we love her for everything she is, that included, and- and- Andrew… she’s feeling isolated. And I- I should have done a better job preparing her for this. I knew I was sheltering her too much-”

“Breathe. There’s no point in dwelling on that. Let’s just do what we can to do better going forward.”

Andrew clapped a hand on Giles’ shoulder. He left it there for a moment, before turning to reach for the door handle.

Elisa was still out of sight laying down in bed. Andrew set his hat and coat down on the couch. Giles watched closely as Andrew walked around the couch towards the open end of the divider. 

He peeked his head in, but instead of saying hello, he tapped twice on the divider.

Elisa sat up.

_ Hi E. How are you _ ? Andrew signed.

Elisa cocked her head to the side. 

_ Daddy why are you signing?  _

Andrew raised his eyebrows and shrugged slightly.

_ Why not? _

_ Because you don’t sign _ , she stated, her eyes narrowed.  _ You talk.  _

_ Well maybe today I want to sign. Can I sign too? Not as good as you though. _

Elisa thought about this. As she did so, Giles appeared at Andrew’s shoulder.

_ If you sign with your back turned, how am I supposed to know what’s going on? _ Giles signed indignantly.  _ For all I know, you’re planning secret things without me. _

Elisa smiled as her dads pretended to argue, their words flowing through their hands like hers. 

Their hands continued to move all night, telling stories, making jokes, expressing love. 

Schoolwork proved to come easily to Elisa, though school didn’t. Soon, their silent nights around the dinner table became a regular occurrence. Once a week, or on days when Elisa felt particularly lonely or had a bad day, without being asked, Andrew and Giles would spring into action.

Many, many years later, as Elisa embraced the creature, his light dancing, his hands moving in the shapes she had taught him, she recalled those nights around the table and particularly her father’s word to her that day:  _ they’re going to see every part of you, perfectly put together, and they’re going to love you for everything you are. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So there's a lot here.  
> 1) I really tried to get into the mindset of an intelligent five year old. The whole part with her trying to talk was difficult subject matter to write and I wanted to emphasize that she's trying to problem solve. I want to make it clear that I do not want it to sound like it's something that should be fixed. Actually, that was one of my biggest fears in the movie after fishboi revealed his healing powers. I would not be here writing this had they healed her ability to speak in the movie. Just saying.  
> However, for the purposes of this story, the time, the place, the circumstances, it seemed like a reasonable thing for her to have tried. Feel free to share your opinions on that. I'm very interested.
> 
> 2) Wowee. So that whole thing Giles told her after said event. I'm not sure if he was speaking to her or me. That's straight out of my personal experience and stuff right there. Have you guys heard "This Is Me" from The Greatest Showman (2017)? Look it up. It'll probably make you bawl. And I'm gonna leave it there.
> 
> 3) You all better be happy I'm writing this as a fanfic because usually when I get this involved in an AU, by now I've already created OCs and turned it into an original work. But this is going places, specifically TSOW places, that I'm excited about.
> 
> 4) I published two chapters in one night and have stayed up well past my bedtime. I'm probably going to be on time out for a couple days. But I promise there's much more to come! Thank you so much for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

The door to the apartment flew open without warning, causing Giles to instinctively recoil so as not to damage the unfinished artwork in his hands.

However, given what we was seeing, he probably would have recoiled anyways.

A very excited Elisa was holding up a dead fish. But, unlike the dead fishes on a hook Andrew carried in behind her, hers was more skeleton than anything else.

“What is that?!” Giles exclaimed as the fish was held up to him.

_ It’s a fish! _

“Yes I can see it’s a fish. It’s a dead fish. A skeleton fish. Skeleton- mummy. It’s a mummy fish. Why? Why do you have that?”

_ I found it. By the river. _

“Good for you dear. Now go throw it away.”

Elisa’s smile faltered momentarily to be replace by a look of confusion.

_ Why? It’s just a dead fish. Daddy has four more. _

“Yes, but daddy caught the fish so we could  _ eat _ the fish. What- what are you going to do with it?”

Elisa lit up.

_ Look at it! It’s like in my science book. I want to study it! _

“You’re going to do what?”

Elisa signed again, but realized as she went to sign “science” that signing with one hand probably wasn’t very clear. She looked back and forth between the fish and her hand and decided to tuck the fish under her arm to complete the sentence.

“Oh no, no, no. Don’t put that there,” Giles said quickly. “Elisa you need to throw that away.”

Elisa shook her head, her eyes pleading. She signed “please” as Giles considered it. Ultimately, he couldn’t say no.

“Alright fine. You can study it. But go put it in the bathtub,” Giles said as Elisa happily followed his directions. “Or the sink. Somewhere in the bathroom where we can run water over it. And wash your hands!”

After adding the last thought as an afterthought, Giles snapped back to Andrew. 

“What the hell?”

“I’m sorry, but in my defense I didn’t know she had it until we were getting out of the car,” Andrew said as he moved to put his own dead fish in the kitchen sink. “And then we argued for ten minutes downstairs because I told her she needed to get rid of it.”

“So why is it in the house?” Giles snapped in a terse whisper. 

“I… lost?” Andrew replied sheepishly.

“Andrew you are her father. You don’t have to lose arguments if you don’t want to.”

“Well, she was saying the same things that she said to you. About wanting to study it and all that. And how could I- Giles, you should have seen her down at the river. I mean, I’ve seen her excited before, but I’ve never seen her so  _ engaged _ . She could have cared less about fishing with me. She just wanted to look at everything. The bugs, the plants, the trees,” Andrew explained. “Giles, it’s scientific curiosity. She’s eleven. She’s young, she’s curious. And who knows, maybe this could be her passion. Or her career. GIles. You don’t want to be the one who stymies her passion, do you?”

Giles rolled his eyes. 

“Not only do you have to play the dad card but you have to go and use the word ‘stymies’ knowing full well that I lose my mind when attractive men correctly use good words around me,” Giles sighed. 

“And I’m right too. But you can focus on how attractive I am if you like.”

Giles took a deep breath, right as Elisa came out of the bathroom and tapped twice on the door frame. They both turned.

_ Can I have a knife? _

“Absolutely not.”

“Giles,” Andrew said out of the corner of his mouth. “Stymy.”

Giles sighed.

“What are you going to do with it?”

_ I want to cut it in half I can look at it better. _

“Fine. You can use one of the knives. But you have to take it to the your bathroom across the hall. Or the kitchen. Whichever. And you have to take Andrew with you.”

“Why do I have to go?”

“Adult supervision.”

As they bickered over whether or not an eleven-year-old needed supervision to cut up a dead fish, Elisa scooped up her prize and practically skipped across the hall to the apartment technically rented by Andrew but currently in use only by her. (When she was deemed old enough, she and Andrew switched places, his apartment becoming known as ‘her room’.)

Andrew followed shortly after and remained by her side as they studied the fish together. Elisa kept running to go get different books; first her science textbook, then an encyclopedia,then one of Andrew’s old copies of  _ National Geographic.  _

Her curiosity could not be abated, even after three days, when the object of her study had started to smell so bad the landlord had complained about it. Even when the fish had disappeared, the smell lingered.

Andrew’s bookshop as it was had folded the year before. Poor electrical wiring had caused a small fire, and he had reduced his inventory to just a newsstand out front. The insurance payout had been decent to keep their family afloat, but now more than ever, he sincerely regretted not having that resource available to Elisa.

He took her to the library instead, but her haul was low and he knew for a fact that he had had several books that would have been perfect for her.

But as she gathered learned more and more about biology, botany, and even some chemistry, nothing could prepare her, nor her dads, for the biological phenomenon about to occur.

 

One afternoon a Sunday in September, Elisa rushed across the hall to her fathers’ apartment.

“Elisa hunny what’s wrong?” Giles asked calmly from the couch.

When he didn’t immediately turn at her frantic tapping on the back of the couch, she ran around the couch so she was in front of him.

_ I’m bleeding! _

“You’re bleeding? Where? Did you cut yourself? What hap-”

Giles was cut off as Elisa shook her head hard and pointed at her skirt.

“What are you talking- Oh… Ooooh. Right,” Giles said, coming to the realization.

_ Am I dying? _ She signed quickly.

“No, no, dear. You’re not dying. It’s just, uh, well… Andrew?”

“Yeah?” Andrew answered groggily, having just drifted off to sleep while doing the crossword puzzle on the bed.

“Come here please.”

“What’s wrong?” Andrew asked as he made his way to the couch, stifling a yawn.

_ I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding!  _ Elisa signed again.

“Bleeding?”

“Yes.  _ Bleeding _ ,” Giles repeated. 

Andrew’s mouth formed an ‘o’ as it dawned on him.

“Right. Well. Uh. I do believe that is… a thing. That, uh, happens to... young ladies. Like you.”

_ Why? _

“Well… I-I don’t really know,” Andrew replied with a sheepish smile.

_ Am I sick? _

“No. It’s just a, uh, a thing. It’s a very…  _ natural  _ thing that happens,” Giles said, doing his best to be encouraging. 

_ Why? Why?  _ She signed over and over again.

“Who do we know that can explain this to her?” Andrew hissed to Giles, hoping Elisa couldn’t har him. “Because I can’t. Can you?”

“ _ Clearly not _ ,” Giles replied in and equally low voice. “And I don’t know,”

Elisa  _ did _ hear this exchange and her chest began to heave. 

_ I’m dying and you’re too nice to tell me the truth _ , she signed sadly, unseen by her fathers.

She placed a hand on her chest as she breathed deeply. Giles saw this out of the corner of his eye and was struck by grown up she looked when she did that. Who had taught her to do that?

“My mother!” Giles exclaimed. “We can call my mother. She’ll know. In the meantime, Elisa, hunny. Go get cleaned up. Take a nice hot shower and, uh, Andrew will got get you something, okay?”

Elisa heaved a sigh and turned back towards the door. Giles patted her on the shoulder gently. As soon as they heard the door close across the hall, Andrew turned to Giles.

“What do you need me to get?”

“The, uh, things that ladies put in their… drawers?” Giles said slowly. 

Andrew’s brow furrowed. 

“Potpourri?”

“ _ The other kind of drawers, Andrew _ ,” Giles said, clapping a hand to his forehead. “Sanitary napkins I think they’re called.”

“Right. Right. I can do that,” Andrew said nodding. “And, uh, where do I go to find those exactly?”

 

An hour or so later, Giles knocked gently on Elisa’s door. When there was no initial tapped response, he slowly pushed it open. 

Elisa was seated at her desk behind the couch, writing. 

“I think she’s taking it well. I don’t see any tears.”

He and Andrew both breathed a sigh of relief as Giles pushed his way farther inside. 

“Elisa dear? Andrew and I brought you a cup of tea. We wanted to see how you were doing,” Giles explained, trying to keep his tone light and calming.

Elisa looked up at them sadly, nodded, and then returned to her writing. 

As her dads approached the desk, Giles set down the teacup and peeked over her shoulder to see what she was writing.

“A  _ will _ ?” Giles cried out. “Elisa. My love. Just because we can’t explain why this is happening does  _ not _ mean you are dying.”

Elisa sighed.

_ You’re in denial. It’s okay. _

Giles looked up at the ceiling and huffed. He put a hand to Andrew’s shoulder and leaned close to his ear.

“If this is what she’s like at eleven, I don’t want to know what she’s going to be like at sixteen.”

Andrew nodded vaguely, though he continued to squint at the paper in front of Elisa.

“Giles, did you read this?” he asked quietly. 

Without warning, Andrew picked up the paper of the desk. Elisa reached for it, but her dad was faster. She stood up from the chair.

_ I’m not finished yet! _

“Elisa Marianne,” Andrew said, reading through the paper. “What is this? Did you- did you really do all of what you said on this-”

Elisa’s eyes roamed, looking anywhere but his. 

“Elisa? Did you do all of this?” Andrew repeated sternly.

Elisa gave a weak smile.

“Andrew what are you talking about?”

Andrew handed him the paper. It was a piece of her nice monogrammed stationery Giles’ mother had given her for her tenth birthday.

_ The Last Will and Testament of Elisa Marianne DuPont _

_ To my daddy Giles, I leave the four cats. They are already his, but now he has to remember to feed them. _

_ To my daddy Andrew, I leave my twelve books. _

_ To my grandma, I leave the butterfly brooch that’s on my dresser. _

“What’s the matter?” Giles asked. “Other than the fact that she’s writing a will.”

“Keep reading.”

_ Also here’s a list of things I’m sorry for that I never told anyone about. _

 

  * __Daddy Andrew, I’m sorry I took my twelve books from yourstore without asking and I’m sorry your store close. I didn’t think you’d miss them. You can have them back now.__


  * _Grandma, I’m sorry I took the butterfly brooch from your jewelry box without asking. You have a lot of them and you don’t ever wear them and I thought it was really pretty._


  * _Daddy Giles, I’m sorry about the time that I forgot to feed the cats but I told you I did so I wouldn’t get in trouble and then the cats got on the counter at ate the chicken you had just made._


  * _To both of my daddies, I’m sorry about when I played in the water when it was too cold even though you told me not to and I got sick and told you it was a kid at school and then you got sick too._


  * _Also to both of my daddies, I’m sorry I lost the dead fish and told you that I threw it away. I think it’s why the house still smells bad. Also, I still don’t know where it is._



 

Giles looked up from the paper in his hands. Elisa had already numbered up to ten, which meant there were still more confessions yet to come.

“Elisa?” Giles said, peering over the top of the paper. “Are these true?”

Her head was down as she stared at the floor, her hands clasped and tucked under her chin. Giles sighed in disbelief, and she looked up.

“You are in so much trouble.”

Elisa shook her head insistently. 

_ I have to confess everything before I die! _

“For the love of God, how many times to do I have to tell you that  _ you are not dying _ ,” Giles said exasperated. “Grandma will be over soon to talk to you.”

_ To say goodbye? _

Both Andrew and Giles sighed. 

“Is there anything I can do to convince you that you’re not dying?” Giles said. 

_ Tell me why I’m bleeding. _

“You’re bleeding internally,” Andrew answered. “But that’s okay because that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”

Elisa and Giles both looked at Andrew, Elisa with a look of horror and Giles with a look of  _ why-the-hell-did-you-just-say-that? _

“What? It’s a joke. I’m kidding E. That’s not what’s happening,” Andrew reassured, though Elisa now looked even less convinced that she would live through this than before. 

“Elisa you are a very smart young lady, and I know you know that’s not what’s happening,” Giles said seriously. “So I need you to stop this so we can talk about what you wrote.”

Elisa sighed. 

“You’re still convinced you’re dying, aren’t you?”

Elisa nodded. 

“Okay. Fine. I can’t convince you that you’re not dying. So if you’re dying, I guess I have to tell you the truth,” Giles said, throwing his hands up as he turned for the couch.

Elisa looked up, for the first time since finding the blood in her underpants more concerned with something other than her impending death. She slowly followed her father to the couch, where he now sat expectantly.

Andrew followed too, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch. 

“Elisa. If you’re dying, then I have to tell you the truth. It’s a truth I’ve needed to tell you for a long time, and I guess if you’re time on Earth is short, I might as well tell you.”

Elisa’s eyes grew wide. Andrew’s eyes narrowed.

“Elisa, my love, you’re adopted. Neither Andrew or I are your biological father. I found you as a baby and took you in, and Andrew came along a year or so later. We couldn’t tell you or anyone the truth because, well, men like Andrew and I don’t get to raise children. We loved you so much wanted to raise you so we hid the truth from everybody. But I guess if you’re dying, I might as well tell you. There. Now you know.”

Elisa stared wide-eyed at Giles. 

Having her father accept her untimely death was one thing, but this was something entirely different.

No one said anything for a long while, which would have continued if not for the knock on the opposite apartment door.

“That’s my mother. Elisa come on.”

Elisa rose, her eyes still frozen wide, and followed  Giles up and out the door.

“Hello Gilbert. Elisa dear. Always nice to see you.”

Ann-Marie opened her arms to hug Elisa, which the girl did automatically. Ann-Marie kissed her on the top of her head and as Elisa pulled away, Ann-Marie remained bent so she could look Elisa in the eyes.

“From what your father said on the phone, a certain young lady around here is becoming a certain young woman!” Ann-Marie said happily. 

“Why don’t you two use our apartment,” Giles offered. “I’ll be across the hall visiting Andrew.”

Elisa allowed herself to be led inside the apartment, thinking more about the fact that clearly her Grandma didn’t know the secret she now knew more than the fact that what would follow would ultimately be the most uncomfortable conversation with a family member she would ever have.

 

Andrew and Giles sat in the living area of Andrew’s apartment for forty-five minutes before there was a knock on the door and Elisa and Ann-Marie returned. 

“I think we’re all set, aren’t we Elisa?” Ann-Marie said, squeezing Elisa around the shoulders.

Elisa nodded, and her dads had to admit she looked far less worried than she had previously. 

“Wonderful. Alright. Well, I’m helping serve dinner at the church tonight, so I must run. But I’ll have you two over for dinner soon. And perhaps your neighbor Andrew as well, as he was so kind to have you over to give us some privacy.”

“Of course ma’am,” Andrew said, with a smile and a nod. 

Ann-Marie finished saying her goodbyes and left, closing the door behind her. 

Giles raised his eyebrows in Elisa’s direction.

“So. Did Grandma explain everything to you?”

Elisa nodded.

“Do you still think you’re dying?”

Elisa smiled slightly and shook her head. 

“I’m so happy,” Giles said with a smile. 

Elisa sighed relieved.

“And while you were gone, Andrew and I had plenty of time to determine what you’re punishment is going to be regarding this,” Giles explained as he held up the list of confessions. “You, young lady, are in a world of trouble.”

Elisa looked down, ready to look her guiltiest in hope of a lighter sentence, when she remembered something. 

She crossed her arms and looked up at her father in defiance. Then she shook her head.

“Oh. You’re not in a world of trouble? And why would that be because.”

Elisa smiled mischievously for a moment, and then turned up her nose at him.

_ Because you’re not my dad,  _ she signed boldly.

She didn’t mean it of course. But why not try it? Maybe it could get her out of this one...

To her surprise, Giles just smiled. 

“Alright. I’ll give you that one because I  _ did _ keep the secret from you for a long time,” Giles said nodding. “But we both know that at the end of the day I am your father and so is he. And you  _ are _ in a lot of trouble, so don’t going making more for yourself.”

Elisa’s defiance wilted. Her arms dropped to her sides.

“Now. Before we go on talking about your confessions _ or mine _ ,” he added as he saw her hands rise to interrupt him. “The three of us need to go find that fish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for oblivious dads and overly-dramatic preteens! 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> One note I want to give: the science stuff might be a little OOC for Elisa, but 1) this   
> __  
> is  
>   
>  an AU and 2) one of the biggest things that I’ve tried to focus on in this AU is the idea of Elisa having an advocate. Advocates don’t always have to be parents, but they often are, and whoever it is, it’s someone who is willing to fight for the young person and encourage them to pursue their passions. This’ll be big in a couple chapters, but I wanted to mention it now.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I want to give a shout-out to my roommate (who probably won’t see this) to whom I told my idea for this chapter and then came up with the idea of Elisa writing her will. We had a lot of fun laughing about what exactly she would confess. 
> 
>  
> 
> As always, I really appreciate you taking the time to read this. Thank you all for reading and have a great day!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So because AO3 doesn't have the same doc manager type thing that FF has, I've been writing this fic on Google Docs to do all the formatting and everything, and we just clocked in at 70 pages. You guys that's almost the same amount of work I have completed on my original novel manuscript. And we're only halfway done.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and as always, thanks for reading! 

For Elisa, school had been, since her very first day, a constant source of internal conflict..

On the one hand, she thoroughly enjoyed learning. Every subject was fascinating and she loved the reading and the writing and the studying that was expected of her. Because of this, she excelled in class and consistently received high marks.

On the other hand, she despised the forced social interaction she had to have with other students. A mix of lifelong muteness, a natural introverted nature, and her accidental propensity for being the teacher’s favorite made her the perfect target for the bullies. She largely hid this from her fathers, fearing something worse should they report it. This only served to make her feel more isolated.

On this particularly chilly February morning in her sophomore year, she settled into her seat in Mrs. Hodge’s chemistry class. 

It was the best class to start the day off with, as not only was it a science class, but there was an odd number of students. Since no one wanted to sit next to her, she always got the two-person table in the back near the window to herself.

Until today.

“Is anyone sitting here?” 

Elisa looked up. 

Standing above her was a tall, skinny girl. She was white (desegregation not occuring in Baltimore until 1956), with long curly brown hair. She was rather pretty, Elisa thought, with clear skin and tortoise shell glasses. In a way, she looked like the ladies in the news reels she and her dads would watch in the movie theatre below their apartment.

The girl blinked, waiting for an answer. At this, Elisa remembered she had been asked a question, and quickly nodded.

“Thanks,” the girl said as she sat down. 

Elisa turned her focus back to her notebook just as the girl shrugged off her coat and stuck out her hand.

“I’m Alex,” the girl said as a surprised Elisa shook her offered hand. “It’s short for Alexandra. Long for Al.”

Elisa chuckled silently at this, which made Alex smile.

“I’m glad you laughed. Normally people don’t. Though of course, you might just be laughing out of pity, in which case I appreciate your politeness at my feeble attempt at humor.”

Elisa furrowed her brow, but still gave the girl a small smile.

“So what’s your name?”

Elisa looked down for a moment and then pointed at her name written on the front of her notebook.

“Elisa. With an ‘s’. Neat,” Alex said, nodding slightly  as she readied her own notebook. “It’s pretty. I like it.”

Elisa felt her cheeks grow hot, and quickly looked back down at her notebook. Why was this girl talking to her? 

“I do have to ask though…” Alex started. 

Elisa’s chest clenched uncomfortably.

“Are you actually twelve or do you just look it?”

Elisa wasn’t sure how to take this. It was an insult (she was well aware that she was almost sixteen and still very flat-chested), but Alex didn’t say it like that. It was more like a joke  _ between  _ them, not at her expense. 

Elisa was just figuring out how she would answer that question when the bell rang.

“Good morning class,” Mrs. Hodges greeted as she entered the classroom. 

“Good morning Mrs. Hodges,” the class chimed in monotone.

“I want to begin by introducing our new student Alexandra Brennan. Alexandra, would you like to share a little about yourself?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not,” Alex said, standing up. “First of all, I prefer to go by Alex, not Alexandra. And I’m from Akron, OH. No one really knows where that is, but you all know what Goodyear is, right? Where they make the tires? It’s that place. Akron is where they make the tires.”

“That’s very interesting. It seems we learn something new everyday. Thank you Alexan- Alex. You may have a seat.”

Alex did as she was told. 

“Well then. Let’s start with a review question from our lesson on balancing chemical equations yesterday. I will write an equation on the board and I want you to tell me the number of each reactant on the left hand side and also what the final equation will be on the right,” Mrs. Hodge’s said, picking up a piece of chalk. “I’d like you to balance the equation for iron (iii) chloride. So please tell me how many iron (iii) atoms you will need and how many chloride molecules you will need over here and then give me the final molecule here on the right.”

The class pulled out their pencils and notebook and copied down the equation. Alex followed suit. 

But just as she put her pencil to the paper to start, next to her Elisa was already finishing. Alex peered down at the equation on her paper.

_ 2 Fe + 3 Cl _ _ 2 _ _ → 2 FeCl _ _ 3 _

“Is that it?” Alex whispered. “Is that the answer?”

Elisa nodded very slightly.

“Ms. Brennan, I know you are new here but in this class if you are talking, that means you have finished your work. What is the answer?”

“Oh. I don’t have the answer,” Alex said. “But Elisa does.”

Elisa froze. There were snickers throughout the room. 

“Oh,” Mrs. Hodges said, surprised. “Well then. Elisa. Do you have an answer for us?”

Elisa shook her head sincerely. Alex frowned.

“But she does. It’s right here.”

Elisa closed her eyes. There were more snickers.

“Elisa will you please come to the board and provide the answer please?” 

Elisa heaved a deep sigh and opened her eyes. She stood and followed the left edge of the classroom well up to the board. She put up her answer as quickly and neatly as possible and returned to her seat, not making eye contact with anyone.

“Very good. As you see class, this is the properly balanced equation. Two iron (iii) atoms combine with…”

Mrs. Hodges continued lecturing until the bell rang. Alex took notes as best she could but she kept getting distracted by the occasional snickers that seemed aimed in their direction.

Beside her, Elisa took notes intently. She barely looked up at the board, but took down every word the teacher said. 

The moment that the bell rang, Elisa scooped up her supplies and practically ran from the room. Alex didn’t have any time to ask what Elisa’s next class was or for directions to the history department.

It turned out, had Elisa lingered long enough, it could have saved her a lot of issue, as they shared the next class, and the class after that, and the class after that. Alex didn’t get the chance to sit next to Elisa in any other of the classes, though, as the rest had assigned seating. 

Apparently it was quite common for Elisa to have answers in class. Alex watched as every desk partner Elisa had that morning offered her to answer. And the teachers must have liked her a lot, given as they always called her up to put her answer on the board. And Alex figured Elisa must have been very humble, given the way she did so without hesitation and without looking to anyone for praise as she quietly returned to her seat.

“Take a left at the end of the hallway,” some boy instructed. “Then the first door on your right will be the cafeteria.”

“Thanks,” Alex said as the boy turned away. 

She followed his directions, passing several pretty blonde girls huddled near a set of lockers. Some of them eyed her suspiciously as she passed, but they said nothing. 

Not far away, Elisa heard the distinctive laugh of the leader of that group Judy Whitaker and immediately worked to open her lock faster. As soon as she heard the lock click, she threw her books inside and snatched out her lunch. She turned swiftly on her heel and sped away as fast as she could without garnering any attention.

She did not sigh a breath of relief until she was safely secluded in an empty practice room.

An entire wing of the school that once housed the music department was vacant. The school could barely afford to feed the students, let alone buy music stands or band uniforms. Many of the instruments already owned by the school had been sold for scrap metal. Those that couldn’t be stood dusty in their cases, untouched for years, hoping maybe one day they’d be pulled out and have life breathed back into them.

Elisa kept the door cracked just slightly as she sat down on the floor of the room to eat her lunch. Despite the fact the rest of the school felt almost as chilled as the weather outside, the soundproof practice rooms were always sweltering. 

Elisa took her last bite of the egg she brought for lunch, and stood up. Now very warm, she shrugged off her coat.  She pulled the wheeled upright piano and the piano bench away from the wall. Behind it, a panel on the wall fell off, revealing several pieces of yellowing sheet music and an L-shaped hand tool. 

She took that first, and opened the top of the piano. Slowly, she went up and down the piano, playing each key individually and using the tool to adjust the tuning as necessary. Giles had taught her this a long time ago when he introduced her to playing the piano, but where he always used tuning forks and humming to check his pitch, Elisa never had to.

Not that she  _ could  _ hum, but something told her that even if she could she wouldn’t need to. She could just listen, and somehow she innately knew if the tone was flat, sharp, or just right.

Once satisfied with the tuning (it wasn’t perfect, but she always chalked that up to it needing far more service than just being tuned), she replaced the tool in the wall and considered which music she wanted to practice for the day.

Alex wandered closer to the music department. Elisa was not in the bathrooms or any of the nearby empty classrooms, and there was no doubt that she had been carrying a lunch bag so clearly it was her lunch period. And she certainly wasn’t in the cafeteria. So where was she?

Just as Alex was ready to return to the cafeteria, she heard, of all things, George Gershwin’s  _ An American in Paris. _

It was faint but clear, better than any radio she’d ever heard. She crept closer to the music department and peeked inside the door. A lone practice room was lit, causing the shadows to loom larger than normal.

Alex took a step inside, careful to close the door behind her quietly so as not to alert any attention to herself. The music grew louder as she got closer to the practice room. 

And there she was. Elisa, seated at the piano, her hands quick and energetic as they flew back and forth across the keys.

Alex watched in quiet awe as Elisa played the piece through. She barely even saw her hand come up to flip the page as she moved seamlessly between the different tonalities of the long piece. She played continuously for a solid three minutes before she flipped a page and put her right hand down on the wrong keys. 

She stopped playing immediately and scoffed. She picked up the pencil and marked the sheet music where she messed up.

“Are you practicing for a recital or something?” Alex asked, seizing her chance while the music had stopped.

Elisa jumped so hard that she pushed the piano back three inches. She just barely moved her hands out of the way before the wooden cover over the keys snapped down.

She rose, turning. 

“You’re really good at that. Like  _ really  _ good. Are you rehearsing for something?” Alex repeated.

Elisa didn’t respond, but rather stared, frozen. Alex frowned. 

“Why do you look so scared? I’m not going to report you. I’m just asking you a question.”

Elisa could care less if she were to be reported. Sure, she’d miss practicing during lunch, but her father had a piano at home. 

No. She was too concerned with the fact that Alex was blocking her path to the door. Elisa gulped and tried to edge her way towards the door. Alex saw what she was doing and stepped closer to the door, which only made Elisa’s heart beat even faster. Tears pricked her eyes. 

“Don’t run away,” Alex said, grimacing. “I’m just asking you a question. Why won’t you talk to me? I thought- well I thought maybe...”

“Well, well, well,” a snide voice said from behind them. “Here I thought I was coming to catch the new kid out of bounds and I find there’s someone else here too. Two for the price of one. It must be my lucky day.”

Alex spun on her heel to find one of the blonde girls from the hallway earlier standing smugly in the doorway to the practice room, her arms crossed in triumph as she surveyed her catch. Behind her stood the rest of her posse.

“Who are you? How did you find us?” Alex demanded with more confidence than she felt.

“Judy Whitaker. Junior class president, hall monitor, and, if you so choose, your worst nightmare,” Judy said smirking. 

“I find it hard to believe that you’re  _ anyone’s _ worst nightmare,” Alex scoffed.

“Oh yeah? Then why does that one over there look so scared?” 

Alex turned her head to look at Elisa. She was in fact, backed into the corner between the wall and the piano, her eyes full of fear.

“So what? I’m not afraid of you. What are you doing here anyways?”

“Well as hall monitor, it is my solemn duty to protect the safety of my peers while on school property,” Judy said with mock sincerity. “And I saw you leave the cafeteria during the lunch hour, which constitutes a demerit. But then I saw you come in here, which is well out-of-bounds. It seems you might not know that, being the new kid and all, but  _ she _ certainly does. So I guess I’ll have to report both of you. It is one of the  _ worst _ parts of the job, but alas, everyone has their cross to bear.”

Clearly, this was nowhere  _ near _ Judy’s cross. She looked almost gleeful at the idea of getting them into trouble.

“Whatever. Report us. Just leave. I’m trying to talk to Elisa, and you’re not part of it.”

Judy’s smirk grew into a wicked smile.

“Oh, new kids. It’s so much fun to watch the first time.”

“The first time? What are you talking about?” Alex snapped. “I’m just trying to have a conversation-”

“Oh yes.  _ You’ll _ have a conversation, but I warn you- it’s gonna be pretty one-sided,” Judy said. 

The girls around her snickered. Alex just gave her a look of utmost confusion.

“You seriously haven’t figured it out yet?” Judy asked happily. “She can’t talk. Can you, dummy?”

All eyes fell on Elisa, who shook her head. 

Alex looked from Elisa to Judy and back as the pieces started to fall into place. At Alex’s look of dawning comprehension, Judy sighed appreciatively. 

“I told you. I always love the first time. I wish I had one of those cameras so I could capture the moment on film. Oh well,” she said with another sigh though she was still grinning. “Well, ladies, it seems I have a few detention slips to write up. Why don’t we leave you two here to have your conversation until then?”

It wasn’t until Judy had already stepped out of the room did Alex finally catch on to her meaning and lunge for the door. But it was too late. 

Alex struggled fruitlessly to push the door open, but Judy held it firm as one of her friends found a chair and shoved it tightly underneath the knob. They heard the piercing sound of high-pitched mirth ring out on the other side of the door and then nothing. 

Alex slammed the side of her fists into the door as hard as she could, but there was no give. She even tried to yell for help a few times, but it was useless. The room was soundproof for a reason.

“I can’t believe this,” Alex said angrily, with one final slam to the door. “I can’t believe this. And to think all I wanted to do was to talk to you. Now I can see how much of a mistake that was.”

Elisa stared down at her shoes, not moving from her place near the wall. Tears started falling, first slowly then stronger. She slid down the wall until she was seated on the floor and buried her head in her arms. 

“Hey I didn’t mean that about you,” Alex said quickly. “I didn’t mean- it’s just… God.”

She slid down the wall to the right of the door. As soon as she was seated, leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling. 

“It’s just… I knew today wasn’t going to go well. I mean how could it?  I’m not- I mean I make jokes and I talk a good game, but I’m not really good at this social stuff. I never have been. It makes me really nervous,” Alex admitted. “And I’m the new girl moving in in the spring of her junior year. The year is almost over and then next year I graduate and how am I supposed to make any real friends when I know I’m not gonna be here long?

“And now we’re stuck here in this smelly hot practice room and God, on my first day here too. Detention. Missing class. They’re going to start calling me a ‘problem’ and all I want to do is just do my work, you know?”

Alex looked to Elisa to see if she would answer, but her head was still buried in her arms. 

“I guess they’ll notice we’re gone soon enough,” Alex said, looking at her watch. “Lunch is almost over and when we don’t show up to class this afternoon, someone will come looking for us.”

Alex leaned her head back again as she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She sat up to see Elisa shaking her head, her face still buried out of sight.

“No? What do you mean ‘no’? They’ll come find us, I’m sure of it,” Alex reassured.

Elisa picked her head up, her eyes red and puffy, tears streaming down her face. Once she had made eye contact with Alex, she shook her head again. It was then that Alex understood.

“This has happened to you before, hasn’t it?”

Elisa closed her eyes, allowing more tears to escape before nodding. 

“What happened?” 

Elisa looked at Alex, who sighed. 

“You… you really can’t say anything, can you? I didn’t realize- I guess… I guess that means that it wasn’t that you didn’t want to to talk to me. It’s just that you couldn’t,” Alex said. “Though you maybe didn’t want to either. And I guess that explains they kept calling you to the board. Which I didn’t mean for them to do, by the way. In chemistry. I just thought… you had the answer so you should give it. I didn’t know it was because you couldn’t...” 

Elisa was ready to bury her head again when she watched Alex pull her bag closer to her and pulled out a notebook and pen. She set the pen on top of the notebook and tossed it in Elisa’s direction. 

It fell in front of her. Elisa looked at it and then to Alex, who shrugged. 

“I want to know what happened the last time you got stuck. And I figured if you can’t- nevermind. Forget it.”

Alex leaned her head back again and closed her eyes. 

Elisa snatched the pen and notebook up and flipped to a clean page. She scribbled furiously as Alex sat up once again. 

Once finished, she held onto the pen and tossed the notebook back towards Alex. She picked it up and found the page Elisa had written on.

_ Last year someone locked me in the janitor’s closet. I pounded on the door really hard, but no one heard it. It wasn’t until the janitor came in after school and opened the closet that I got found. _

“What about your parents? Didn’t they notice you were gone?”

Elisa motioned for the notebook. Alex obliged, and a moment later was reading again.

_ It was still early enough they thought I had stopped at the library or something. They’ll probably think that’s what has happened again. _

“But wouldn’t they…” Alex stopped and sighed. “You didn’t tell them.”

Elisa shook her head. 

_ I didn’t want to scare them _ , she signed before heaving her own sigh. 

This time it was Elisa who leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

She thought of her dads. 

Maybe they’d immediately put it together once she didn’t get home right away, but more than likely they’d assume she was at the library and hadn’t left a note, or had gone downstairs to the movies. If that was it, it wouldn’t be until she didn’t return home by her curfew that they’d finally figure it out and by then it would be too late to rescue them today. 

She cursed herself for picking a room in a secluded part of the building to hide out in during lunch. She cursed herself for leaving the door cracked so the music could escape. She cursed herself for letting this happen again. 

“At least they’d wonder,” Alex said after a quiet moment. “I have no idea if my parents would even notice.”

Elisa opened her eyes and looked at Alex. When they made eye contact, Elisa tilted her head slightly, her eyebrows raised.

“You know how I said in class that we moved here from Ohio? Where the tires are made?”

Elisa nodded. 

“Well, my dad used to work there. At the Goodyear plant. He had been there since before the Great War. He helped start the Rubber Workers union in 1935. But… if there’s no work, then there’s no need for workers, union or otherwise. Plus my grandma started getting sick. So we moved out here. But- it kind of… broke my dad. His job was everything to him. And then when things started getting bad, he couldn’t provide for us anymore. Now he just kind of sits in the basement and does nothing. My mom has to take care of us and my grandma and my grandpa, who’s not in the best health either. If I don’t come home on time, there’s a fifty-fifty chance they won’t notice.”

Elisa frowned. 

Her dads weren’t always the most…  _ aware _ people when it came to certain matters. Recently, she’d pointed out to them that  they had fallen into a habit of talking a lot without really looking at her, meaning she couldn’t really be part of the conversation. And yes, sometimes they could assume a little too much about where she was and what she was doing, but she could never imagine them not noticing her absence at  _ all _ .

Elisa scooted herself out from next to the piano and moved to the wall next to Alex. Alex watched, her brow slightly furrowed, as Elisa took her hand and squeezed it. 

_ I’m sorry _ , Elisa signed, one hand still holding Alex’s. 

Alex said nothing as Elisa lowered their clasped hands back to the ground and let go. She just nodded and replaced her hand in her lap. 

 

Hours ticked by, and still there was no answer. The heat of the practice room made them both incredibly hot and also very sleepy. 

When the door finally did swing open, both were asleep, their heads leaning on folded up coats and sweaters. 

“Elisa? Elisa? Hunny, please wake up,” Giles said, distressed, as he rushed into the room to rouse his daughter.

Andrew, the school custodian, and three school administrators waited in the hall just outside of the practice room. Once the girls had started to wake up and were deemed okay but a little shaken, the group stepped to the side, allowing the girls and Giles to exit.

“Girls, whose idea was it to come in here? This area is off limits to students,” the school principal Mr. Hudson asked as they stepped out into the hallway outside the music department.

“Uh, well... We got lost?” Alex offered. 

Mr. Hudson frowned, unconvinced. 

“Don’t lie to me young lady. How did you come to be in here?”

“Well, sir. I was at lunch and I-” 

There was a small tap on Alex’s shoulder. She turned to look just as Elisa stepped up next to her. She motioned to her father, signing “interpret please”.

“I had come in here to practice the piano during lunch. I knew it was breaking the rules, but I stayed anyway. The girl… Alex. Alex saw me come in and followed me because she didn’t want me to get into trouble. Alex closed the door behind her and the chair fell and got stuck,” Giles interpreted. 

Mr. Hudson looked from the speaker back to Elisa, who nodded. 

“I see. Well. Miss Brennan, yes? You are off the hook seeing how it is your first day and you were just trying to protect Miss DuPont here. Miss DuPont however, you knew what you were doing was wrong and ultimately got both of you stuck, so you and I will have a discussion first thing tomorrow morning regarding detention. But for now, I want you both to go home and get a good night’s rest.” 

Alex and Elisa nodded, and were led down the back hallway, to the lobby, and out the door. 

“Can we give you a ride home?” Giles offered to Alex as Andrew went to ready the car. “I’m sure my friend here wouldn’t mind dropping you off.”

“Oh. Uh, sure. Thank you.”

Elisa and Alex shared the backseat, with Andrew driving and Giles in the passenger seat. Alex directed Andrew to her grandparent’s house about fifteen minutes away. She bade them a goodnight and climbed out, leaving Elisa alone with her dads.

The car ride continued in silence, Giles and Andrew exchanging only concerned glances as they drove home in the fading daylight.

Elisa lingered back behind them as they parked in the alley and made their way around the building towards the stairs. She signed nothing  but a “goodnight” as she disappeared into the apartment.

A little while later, she was dressed and settled into bed to read her history assignment when there was a knock on the door. She sighed and tapped loudly on the bedside table in response.

“We made you some tea,” Giles offered, handing her a cup as he and Andrew settled on the foot of her bed. “Figured you could use some.”

_ Thank you _ , she signed, smiling weakly as she took a sip.

“We wanted to, to just talk a little about what happened today,” Andrew said slowly. “It’s quite an experience to get stuck in such a small room like that. Especially with a stranger, and we just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Elisa nodded and signed “I’m okay”. Giles and Andrew exchanged another glance. 

“Good,” Giles said. “We’re glad you’re okay. But we wanted… Elisa, your principal might be convinced that this was an accident, but we’re not. Chairs don’t just fall over and get stuck under door knobs. You know that, and because you lied about it, I think that you know who locked you in there too.”

Elisa shook her head.

“No you don’t know or no you’re not going to tell us?” Andrew asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Elisa stared down at the blanket in front of her. She shook her head again, causing Giles and Andrew to look at each other and sigh.

“The principal informed us that this was not the first time they’ve found you stuck somewhere. He asked us if we knew why this kept happening, and we had to tell him we weren’t aware this had happened before,” Giles said quietly. “Elisa, why didn’t you tell us before when this happened? Why didn’t you tell us things were so bad?”

Elisa continued to stare at the blanket. Tears started to well in her eyes again and when she took a deep breath, it was shaky. Andrew scooted closer to her and put an arm around her, which made the tears flow freely.

“If things are this bad, hunny, we need you to tell us,” Giles said. “Otherwise, we won’t know.”

Elisa cried harder. 

“We have to tell the school,” Andrew muttered. 

Elisa jerked her head back and shook it hard. Her hands rose and started signing so fast that they could barely make out what she was saying. 

“Okay, okay. We won’t tell the school. But… Elisa. Hunny,” Giles said, grabbing her hands. “We have to keep you safe. That’s our job. And people locking in vacant parts of the school is… What if it had been you alone? What if I hadn’t been waiting? What if you had gotten overheated or sick. There’s- there’s too many variables. And I don’t you to get hurt by somebody because you’re scared to tell us the truth.”

Elisa looked up into Giles’ eyes and was struck by how old he looked. Creases had started to form near his eyes, and his hair was getting thinner everyday. 

His gaze held all the fear and anxiety and worry that she felt. Soon she felt like she couldn’t hold it any longer. 

So she told them everything, starting from the very beginning. They paid close attention to every sign she made, and at certain points when she paused, it was as if she could see the gears turning in their heads, the running tallies growing longer. 

By the end, two and half hours later, they were inches away from pure terror. They had had no idea.

But to Elisa’s surprise, she herself felt a bit better. It had been hard to recount most of it, but when she was done, she just felt relieved that somebody else  _ knew _ . And that she didn’t have to keep all of this bottled up inside of her anymore.

After a good cry was had by all parties, Andrew and Giles bade her goodnight and left. 

Elisa would never know, but they stayed up another few hours after this crying and discussing all they had learned. They had promised her not to tell the school (which they both feared was a terrible mistake), but they vowed to each other to pay far closer attention to these sort of details when Elisa returned home everyday. 

Eventually, Andrew drifted off to sleep. Giles stayed awake, pondering what he did to make her not trust him about this sort of thing and considering what to do in the future to keep it from happening again. 

 

The next day during a class change, Alex was at her locker when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. 

She turned to find Elisa standing there, a nervous smile on her face. Alex opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Elisa held out a small piece of paper. 

_ I wanted to check on you after yesterday. Did your parents notice you were late? _

“Yeah, actually they did,” Alex said, with a small smile. “They were all eating dinner when I came in. My mom was the first to say something, and I explained the whole thing. How I got trapped in a practice room and all that. And my dad was a little angry and when I asked him why, he said something along the lines of ‘they locked you in a practice room without your flute?’ And we reminded him that I haven’t played the flute in almost two and a half years. And we all got a good laugh out of that.”

Elisa smiled, nodding. She signed “good” as she continued to nod, though she knew Alex didn’t understand.

“Was your dad upset? When he, you know, talked for you, when you explained…  _ I  _ knew you were lying, but I don’t know if he did. And I know you did it because you didn’t want to get me in trouble. Did you tell him the truth?”

Elisa suddenly grew very interested in her shoes. She gave the tiniest of nods.

“Good. That way you didn’t get in trouble,” Alex said. “With them, at least. You still had to meet with Mr. Hudson though, and I can’t imagine that went well. Did he give you detention?”

Elisa nodded solemnly.

“I’m so sorry. If you want I can go tell him the truth-”

Elisa cut her off by shaking her head and waving her away.

“Okay then. Well, thank you. And… thanks for checking in on me. That’s really nice of you.”

Elisa nodded, but then seemed to get an idea. She pointed to the piece of paper, which Alex handed back to her. 

Elisa pulled out a pen from her coat pocket and scribbled something on it before handing it back.

_ If it’s ever too hard to be at home, you’re more than welcome to come over to my house. It’s quiet and good for studying.  _

Alex read the sentences and then looked up at Elisa and smiled.

“I’d like that. My brothers cna get pretty loud sometimes,” Alex chuckled. “Maybe I could come over tonight after your detention? I know there’s that chemistry quiz tomorrow and I’m a little behind.”


	8. Chapter 8

“So,” Andrew started, taking a seat on the edge of Elisa’s bed. “First day of your senior year tomorrow. How do you feel?”

Elisa cocked her head slightly, confused.

_ How am I supposed to feel? _

“Oh I don’t know,” Andrew said with a shrug. “Excited. Nervous. Worried. Belligerent.”

Elisa laughed at the last word. 

“Hey it’s a valid way you could feel,” Andrew offered. “I saw you got another letter from Alex. I take it she’s settling into her dorm nicely?”

Elisa nodded. 

“She went back somewhere in the midwest, right? But not Ohio though.”

Elisa shook her head. 

_ Chicago. _

“Right, right, right,” Andrew said nodding. “Northwestern. That’s a good school.”

Elisa grimaced slightly.

“What? It’s  _ not _ a good school?”

_ No. It’s a good school. But I know she wanted the University of Chicago. _

“Ah yes. I remember you telling me that,” Andrew said. “That’s  _ also _ a good school.”

Elisa shrugged slightly and shuffled a little farther under the covers. She smiled slightly; being under the covers when one of her dads was sitting talking to her always made her feel like a little girl again. Andrew smiled back at her, but after a moment his head tilted slightly as he considered

“Have you given any thought to where you’re going to go to college, E?”

Elisa looked taken aback. For a second she just stared, before she scoffed and started laughing. But at the look on his face, she immediately sobered.

_ You’re serious?! _

“Of course I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Elisa stared at him confusedly, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to process this new development. Finally she raised her hands. 

_ I’m not going to college. _

“Why not? I thought that was the plan. Go to college. Get a degree in… biology? Become a doctor or something?”

Elisa frowned.

“Okay. That last part was a joke. But the other parts weren’t. Elisa, it’s your passion. You love studying it, and if you don’t, who is going to work to protect the river and all the plants and animals and the little birds and fishies who live there?”

Elisa sat up quickly.

_ Did you read my journal? _ she signed angrily. 

Andrew raised his hands defensively.

“No, no of course not. I don’t have to,” Andrew smirked. “You just told me. And also I’ve raised you since you were a toddler and I wholeheartedly believe your father when he says that since he found you in the river, you believe it’s your destiny to protect it.”

Elisa rolled her eyes and sat back with a huff, crossing her arms. 

“Elisa, you’d do great. It would be hard work, but I think you could do it. And I’ll be here with you. To support you and all that. You could even take any book you wanted from the store, now that’s it’s strong again. And you wouldn’t get in trouble this time.”

Elisa smiled at her father’s offer, but it quickly faded. She picked at the edge of her blanket and heaved a sigh with a little shake of her head. 

“What?”

Elisa met her father’s gaze. 

_ Colleges don’t take people like me. _

“What are you talking about? Tons of colleges accept women now-”

_ Women? Yes. Mute people? No. _

“If you don’t say it on the application, no one’s gonna know,” Andrew suggested. 

_ I think they would figure it out when I got there and they learn I can’t talk.  _

“I guess you’ve got a point,” Andrew said with an overdramatic sigh. He smiled. “Just… just promise me you’ll think about it.”

Elisa sighed and then nodded. 

_ I’ll think about it. _

“Wonderful. That’s all I ask,” Andrew said. 

He rose from his seat and stretched for a moment before stepping forward and kissing Elisa on the forehead.

“Goodnight, E. Sleep tight.”

_ Goodnight _ , she signed.

He turned out the overhead light as he exited. She shimmied farther into bed, considering his words. 

She  _ would _ think about it, that was much for certain. But as soon as the school year started, suddenly everything was in such a rush that she nearly forgot.

Until one morning.

Elisa sat on the couch of her fathers’ apartment, the newspaper propped up against her knees as she ate her cereal.

“So E,” Andrew started, taking a seat opposite her on the couch. “I know that you had said you’d think about college, and that you probably haven’t had a chance to since school has been so busy lately, so I thought I’d send away for a few things for you. Just to peruse. Nothing for certain, just some potential options.”

“Andrew you’re pressuring her,” Giles said warningly from his easel. 

“I’m not pressuring her, I’m just providing information.”

“Elisa dear, if he’s pressuring you, just tell him and he’ll stop.”

“She knows that and she would,” Andrew corrected. He turned his attention back to Elisa. “Anyways. As I said. I sent away for a few pamphlets.”

Andrew handed her a handful of glossy papers. She folded the newspaper one-handed and took them. 

“Now the first is the University of Maryland. It’s a good state school, probably a little cheaper than the others, and there’s the one about forty minutes away as well as the one here in town. The next is Johns Hopkins. That’s the private research school here in Baltimore, and I know that you’d probably want to study biology or something, but they’ve got something called ‘the school of public health’. That focuses, you know, on matters of public health. And I thought that could be an option, seeing as your interest is sort of in protecting people, and the river, and the river people.”

Elisa looked up from the pamphlets on her lap and frowned. Giles spun from where he sat at the easel and peered at Andrew over one pair of his glasses. 

“The river people? Seriously?”

“You two don’t appreciate my sense of humor.”

Elisa looked back down as Giles chided Andrew for his poor joke, and then waved a hand toward Andrew.

_ What’s this one? _

“Oh. That’s, uh, Gallaudet? I don’t know how to pronounce it quite right, but it’s… well, it’s the college for Deaf students. In DC.”

Elisa looked up at him. Giles spun back around, his gaze switching between his partner and his daughter.

_ I’m not- _

“I know you’re not Deaf,” Andrew said, cutting her off. “I just thought since we had sort of talked about… That maybe you felt  a little… And well the whole curriculum is in sign. So I just thought maybe if you didn’t think you’d feel… Maybe there...”

“Andrew,” Giles said in a low, urget whisper.

They both watched her for a moment, their attention on her while hers was on the papers on her lap. After a moment, she raised her hands.

_ I want to see them,  _ she signed.

“See them? Like tour them?” Andrew said slowly. When she nodded, his heart leapt. “Of course. Yeah. Of course we could go see them. Which one or ones?”

_ All three _ .

“Perfect. Yes of course. I’ll go make some phone calls right now,” he said excitedly.

He had just vaulted himself over the back of the couch like the young man he definitely was not before he paused. 

“Do you think the admissions office is open on Saturdays?” He thought aloud. “Eh. I’ll try anyways.”

As soon as he was out the door, Giles turned to Elisa.

“You don’t have to humor him. You know that right? He won’t be mad if you don’t want to.”

_ I do. I do want to. _

Giles shrugged and turned back to his work.

“Alright. I’m just making sure.”

 

Johns Hopkins turned out to be interesting but ultimately unattainable. 

The tuition, even with the possibility of merit based scholarships, was far too expensive. Plus, the commute via bus would have been long and out of the way, meaning either she’d have to wake up very early to get to class.

The University of Maryland was more than attainable, tuition-wise, but boring. The day of their trip, the commute was long and tedious. Elisa liked the quad and the library was quite nice, but it still felt too far away and too… not right. 

The final tour was of Gallaudet College.

_ Alright. At this time, the parents will leave to go to lunch with Henry over there and the students will go to lunch will Emily over here. We will come back as a group after lunch,  _ the tour guide signed _. _

“Is it me or do they sign even faster than you?” Giles muttered in Elisa’s ear.

She nodded. 

“Alright,” Andrew said, clapping a hand on Elisa’s shoulder. “You go off with them and we’ll meet you after lunch, okay? Have fun. Make new friends.”

Elisa nodded again before turning and following a group of young people towards a building with a cafeteria.

Giles was right- everyone else signed far faster than she did. And quite differently. For the first several minutes of the tour, she tried to read every word signed in order, only to be very confused. Eventually she figured out their grammar and word order was different, and then it all made more sense.

The tour guide handed them each a lunch pass and instructed them towards the lunch line. Elisa felt momentarily elated as she realized she could just sign which food she wanted instead of trying to point each individual thing out to the person behind the counter.

She settled at a table near the door with the rest of the touring students. Most were deep in signed conversation. The boy next to her turned to her as she sat, interrupting the conversation he was having to talk to her.

_ We were just saying how we felt bad for you, _ he signed.  _ Because your dad doesn’t sign. _

Elisa looked taken aback.

_ My dad signs,  _ she affirmed.  _ He just doesn’t need to. _

The three or four students paying attention to the conversation raised eyebrows.

_ You’re THAT good at reading lips, are you?  _ ne girl nearby asked.

_ No, no. I don’t-  _ Elisa started, then stopped.  _ I’m hearing. I can hear. I just can’t talk.  I’m mute.  _

The other students looked even more confused. A few exchanged glances. 

_ If you’re hearing, why can’t you talk?  _ one of the other girls asked. 

Elisa took a deep breath and turned her head to one side. She pointed at the scars on her neck, and then turned to show the other side.

_ I can’t make sound,  _ she signed. _ It’s been like this since I was a baby. Probably my parents. _

_ Your parents?!  _ The boy next to her signed, his eyes huge.  _ Like your dad who is with you?! _

_ No, no, no,  _ Elisa signed, shaking her head hard.  _ I’m adopted. My  _ birth  _ parents did it. We think. We don’t know for sure. _

This seemed to abate the fears of some of the other students. The boy next to her nodded, almost impressed. 

_ A hearing mute, _ he signed.  _ I guess you learn something new every day! _

_ It makes sense,  _ the first girl signed.  _ You sign like hearing people talk. _

Elisa frowned and looked down at her lunch, suddenly very self conscious.

For the rest of the meal, Elisa kept her hands down and just ate. Occasionally, the students would ask her a question, and she would reply and ask them one in turn, but otherwise she signed nothing.

After the group had come back together following lunch, Elisa was loathe to stray too far from her dads. They finished the tour and decided it was best to regroup once they were home. 

“So? What are your thoughts? Did you like it?” Andrew asked Elisa barely the moment they had stepped inside the door. 

“Andrew please. Give her a moment to get inside the door,” Giles scolded. 

Elisa stretched and took a seat on the couch. 

_ It was nice. The campus is beautiful,  _ she signed once Andrew was comfortably seated nearby.  _ But I still didn’t feel quite right there. _

“Why not?”

Elisa looked down at her lap. She flexed her fingers, thinking.

_ I can hear, like hearing people. I use sign language, like Deaf people. But it’s… it’s like I understand both worlds but I don’t really fit in either,  _ she signed, biting her lip. She looked up at Andrew.  _ Does that make sense? _

He nodded, suddenly far more solemn.

“Elisa...did something happen when you were at lunch with the other students?” Giles asked slowly, pulling the seat of his easel closer to where Elisa sat on the couch. 

Elisa sighed. 

_ They said I sign like hearing people talk. And they’re right! _ she signed, adding the second part emphatically.  _ I…I... _

Her hands stuttered as she tried to figure out what to say.

_ I was excited…  _ she signed slowly.  _ I was excited to go be with other people who signed and not have them look at me different. But they still did. I was still different. Even somewhere I thought I wouldn’t be. _

Elisa’s breathing grew shakier. She hadn’t realized how much it had bothered her until this moment.

_ I’m tired of people looking at me like that.  _

With that, she buried her head in her hands. 

“I’m… I’m sorry that you feel… that way,” Andrew said slowly. “ I hope  _ we  _ didn’t… Do-do we make you feel like that?”

Elisa shook her head seriously, her face still hidden. She heaved a deep breath and looked up. 

_ No. This is the only place that doesn’t happen.  _

Giles let out a relieved breath. Andrew gave Elisa a sad smile and leaned forward to take her hand in his. 

“If we ever do that to you,” he said. “Let us know. Our job is to take care of you and make you feel loved and accepted and if you ever  _ don’t _ feel that, we’re not doing our jobs right. So you should complain to the management.”

Elisa smiled weakly at this. 

“I’m going to stop with the college stuff,” Andrew continued softly. “Giles is right. I’m pushing it too much. If I hadn’t pressured you into the tours and all… I’ll stop bringing it up and if you choose to pursue it, it’s all you okay? I’m sorry, hunny.”

Elisa shifted in her chair. 

Truth be told, it thrilled her that Andrew was so passionate about her going to college. Though her fathers had always been supportive and loving, she had never seen either of them so excited and willing to work for her to do something. 

It made her feel like somebody important, like somebody who was worth something. 

And she  _ did _ like the idea of college. Worries about making friends, the cost of class, and where she would live aside, Elisa loved the idea of being surrounded by people who were interested in learning. There would be classes full of new information and laboratories and libraries. She couldn’t even fathom the possibilities. 

But getting there was proving an emotional challenge. Andrew kept true to his word and did not bring up the subject, though Elisa could tell he was just bursting to. And every time she prepared to bring it up with him, a voice in her head started telling her everything was terrible and nothing would ever work and she should just give up. 

A month later, she decided she could take it one step at a time. That way she could work to control the negative voice in her head and at the same time get confirmation (or  _ not  _ get confirmation) on each step if she was doing the right thing.

“Hello, Elisa,” Mrs. Bateman the biology teacher greeted as she gathered up papers after class had dismissed. “Did you have a question for me?”

Elisa nodded. She could feel the color growing in her cheeks as she held out a small piece of paper to the teacher. Mrs. Bateman’s mouth twitched into a frown for the briefest of seconds as she took the offered note.

Elisa could feel the blood pounding in her ears as she watched the teacher read. Mrs. Bateman raised her eyes, her brow furrowing slightly. 

“A letter of recommendation?” 

Elisa nodded. 

“To apply to college, I assume?”

Elisa nodded again.

Mrs. Bateman raised her head to consider Elisa more fully. 

“I was not aware that you had intentions to apply for college,” Mrs. Bateman stated simply. 

Elisa felt fear and embarrassment grip her heart. She signed “thank you” and did a slight gesture she hoped would come off as ‘don’t worry about it’ and turned to leave. 

“No, no,” Mrs. Bateman said, causing Elisa to spin back around. “I didn’t mean- I just meant you haven’t shown any interest before. But I think it’s a good thing. We don’t get enough young ladies around here who choose to go to college. I think this war might change that some, but still… When ladies do go, it’s usually to be a teacher or a nurse or get their M-R-S degree. And there’s no problem at all in being a teacher or a nurse, but the last one… That’s not why  _ you’re _ going is it?”

Elisa looked confused. 

“M-R-S degree?” Mrs. Bateman asked again. “Mrs. To find a husband.”

Elisa shook her head. 

“Good,” Mrs. Bateman said appreciatively. “I have to ask- would it be reasonable to assume that you would be studying science? If you were to continue your education?”

Elisa nodded. 

“May I ask which one?”

Elisa pointed to the floor meaning “here”.

“Biology?” Mrs. Bateman clarified. Elisa nodded. “And you’re not just saying that because you’re asking the biology teacher for a letter, are you?”

Elisa’s eyes widened and she shook her head again. She watched Mrs. Bateman’s expression soften. She looked almost… proud. 

“Very good,” she stated. “You do very well, even here in Biology II, which most students who take it do not succeed in. And you certainly seem to enjoy it. I can tell by the way you approach your assignments. You really seem to want to get something out of it. Not just get a grade.”

Elisa smiled. No teacher had said anything like this to her before. And Mrs. Bateman seemed to recognize this, as she pulled her shoulders back and peered down at Elisa. 

“I’d be honored to write you a letter of recommendation,” she said proudly. “I do have some grading to do this evening though, so if you’d be so kind as to give me until tomorrow night or Wednesday to complete it.”

Elisa nodded sincerely, now smiling broader than she felt possible. 

“Wonderful. I’ll get to it. Now run along. You don’t want to be late for lunch.”

Elisa did as she was told, and for the next few days, kept sharp lookout for any change in behavior from Mrs. Bateman. Wednesday came and went, and there was still no letter. By the time she arrived for class on Friday, Elisa was convinced there wouldn’t be one after all and that Mrs. Bateman had been mocking her the entire time. Getting her hopes up just to dash them. 

But that period, as Mrs. Bateman was handing back their most recent quizzes (on which she received an 89%), the teacher leaned over as she passed Elisa’s desk and said “see me after class” in a low voice. 

Judy Whitaker and a few of her cronies nearby feigned disappointment in Elisa’s direction. Judy even leaned close and muttered “what did you do now, dummy _? _ ” in a low scolding whisper. Elisa made a point to roll her eyes (she had seen Judy’s score- it was a 54%), but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something  _ was _ wrong.

As soon as the bell rang and the class cleared, Elisa took her time in packing her bag and slowly made her way to Mrs. Bateman’s desk. She was relieved to see the teacher looking rather pleased with herself, a white envelope in her hand.

“I apologize for it being so late,” she said, handing over the envelope. “It turns out I had to wait on a little bit more information.”

Elisa accepted the offered envelope and was struck by how thick it was. She ran a thumb across the bottom edge and found it move. There wasn’t one envelope- there were three. 

Immediately, Elisa looked up to Mrs. Bateman for explanation. The teacher looked even more smug at Elisa’s confusion.

“I may have shared with the other science faculty that you intended to study biology further at a university level and, though I couldn’t get Mr. Nederman into the 20th century, Mrs. Hodges and Ms. Rosenthal were very happy and offered to write letters as well. I’m sorry to make you wait, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. You are surprised, yes?”

Mrs. Bateman really  _ didn’t  _ have to ask. It was clear on Elisa’s face as she continued to thumb through the envelopes, counting and recounting, as if she didn’t keep checking, she was going to wake up and this was going to turn out to be a dream.

Elisa nodded enthusiastically and was this close to breaking with her own tradition and hugging her teacher, when the bell signifying the beginning of the next period rang.

“Let me write you a pass,” Mrs. Bateman offered. “Don’t want you getting in trouble with the hall monitor.”

She held out the pass and smiled smugly at Elisa.

“Do tell us when you get, okay?” 

 

A few months after Elisa had sent off the completed application, along with the three letters of recommendation, two essays, and a copy of her transcript up to that point, she and Giles returned home from an outing to the department store to find Andrew happily whistling as he moved around Elisa’s kitchen.

She and Giles exchanged glances. 

_ I think he’s cooking _ , Elisa signed skeptically, as the pair paused on the landing. 

_ I think you’re right, _ Giles signed back, nodding. 

_ Why?!  _ Elisa signed urgently.  _ He can’t cook! _

_ Relax, _ Giles signed.  _ He seems very happy about it. Let’s just… let’s just eat it and then if the two of us need to go out to eat later we can. _

Elisa was not completely convinced, but followed Giles inside nonetheless.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my two favorite people in the world,” Andrew said happily, practically dancing over to greet them. “My lovely partner and my even lovelier daughter.”

Andrew first kissed Giles on the cheek and then spun around and kissed Elisa on the cheek, causing the first to roll his eyes and the latter to giggle silently.

“What are you up to?” Giles asked, as he tentatively stepped forward to look at the pots on the stove as Andrew tried to convince Elisa to dance with him.

“I’m making my grandmother's famous goulash,” Andrew said, taking Elisa’s hand in his and spinning her. “Along with some nice wheat crackers I got from the market and for dessert… ice cream.”

“Ice cream? Andrew, there’s a war on.”

“And tonight is a celebration,” he informed them.

He and Giles quibbled about sugar rations, Elisa mentally calculated who’s birthday she was forgetting (hers wasn’t for a few more weeks, Giles’ was in May, Andrew’s wasn’t until September so she was quite confused). 

She took a seat at the table thinking, when Andrew ended his conversation with Giles by passionately kissing on the lips before doing another happy spin. He whisked an envelope out of his apron and slapped it down on the table in front of Elisa, making her jump.

She picked it up, frowning, and turned it over. The return address was from the University of Maryland at Baltimore.

Without forethought, Elisa pushed away from the table, causing both of her dads to turn quickly and look at her. 

“Oh boy,” Giles said slowly as he sat down next to her. Andrew followed suit on her other side. 

She stared at it unblinkingly. 

“Well go on. Open it.”

Elisa reached for it and then stopped. She looked back and forth between her dads and then to the envelope in front of her. 

_ Whatever it says, I’m okay. Okay? _ she asked seriously. 

“Yes, yes. Okay. Just open it,” Giles pushed. 

Elisa took a deep breath and tore the envelope open. She carefully slid the letter out and unfolded it with shaky hands. 

For a moment, both men watched as her eyes moved back and forth down the page. They held their breath as she inhaled deeply and set the letter down in front of her. 

Then she grinned.

There was so much hugging and rejoicing in the following moments that she barely got the chance to inform them not only was she accepted, but…

“ _ Full-tuition? _ ” Giles said, astounded, as he read through the letter. “They’ll pay for everything. Look. Tuition. Books. Maybe even room and board, if you decide you want to live there.”

The rest of the school year passed quickly after that, and was  _ so much better. _

Class felt important again, because she knew they’d be looking at her grades when she graduated. Teachers were nicer, knowing that she valued their lectures in a way not many others did. Even the bullies didn’t seem to phase her because she knew it wasn’t long before  _ she _ moved on to bigger and better things, and they stayed behind doing…. Oh, who the hell even  _ cares _ ?

The day of her last final exam, Elisa treated herself to a pastry from the bakery down the street before she stopped by the post office to drop off a letter to Alex. There was a definite spring in her step, and the sunlight and blue sky made her feel that everything was right in the world. 

She skipped up the front stairs to the landing and danced her way down the hall. She plucked the right key from her ring and inserted it into her fathers’ apartment, wanting to pick up their copy of the newspaper before returning to her own apartment.

“Where have you  _ been _ ?” Giles asked sternly the moment she walked in the door. “I’ve been waiting. You should have been here half an hour ago.”

_ I went to send a letter- _ she started signing, but Giles raised a hand to stop her.

“It’s not important now. What  _ is _ important is that you’re back and we can go now,” he said.

Elisa’s brow furrowed as Giles started gathering things and throwing them into a bag on the couch. A toothbrush, toothpaste, socks, underwear.

She waved to get his attention, and when he didn’t turn, she smacked the back of the couch hard. 

_ Go where? What’s happening? _

“It’s Andrew. He was out at lunch with a friend and he just started wheezing and then passed out. He’s at the hospital right now. We have to go.”

Elisa stood frozen, mouth agape, as she processed this new information. She felt her breath growing shallow, and tears prick her eyes. 

Giles stopped rushing about at the tell-tale gasp she made before she started sobbing. He sighed deeply and wrapped his arms around her.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured. “He’s going to be okay. It was probably just an asthma attack. He smokes, we know that. Sometimes if you do it for a long time it can mess up your lungs. Shhhhh. It’s okay. He’s gonna be okay.”

He was not going to be okay.

Andrew Nemes died of complications of a heart attack two days after being admitted on May 29, 1943, one week to the day before Elisa’s high school graduation. He was 45.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....I’m sorry? (I’m smiling sheepishly as I ask that)
> 
>  
> 
> A couple things I want to say about this particular development…
> 
>   1. It was planned from the beginning. 
>   2. It was nothing against Andrew. Most of the love interests in my fiction get killed off.
>   3. Strictly speaking, as my character deaths go, Andrew got off pretty easy (in my novel manuscript, the main character’s boyfriend commits suicide and nearly takes her and their daughter with him)
> 

> 
> I hope this doesn’t prevent you from reading further. There’s still much more in store. We’re about halfway through. A few more chapters left until we get to fishboi, but I promise he’ll make his appearance soon!
> 
>  
> 
> I truly appreciate all of you! Thank you for sticking with it so far, and thank you so much for your comments and kudos. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to the readers:
> 
> This chapter and the next are published back to back because they are intended to be read in succession. I want to warn you that these chapters dig heavily into grief, depressive episodes, and self-destructive behavior. If these are things that might trigger you, please consider this your warning and do not read them. Our heroes will make it through okay, but I can tell you from experience that grief is a motherfucker and you do not come out the other side the same person you were before. 
> 
> As always, I thank you for reading and I thank you for your comments and your kudos. 

As bad as Giles felt introducing himself to Andrew’s parents as “Andrew’s good friend and neighbor”, it was nothing to what he imagined Elisa must feel being known as “the quiet girl who lives across the hall that came to pay her respects”.

Andrew had been her father. She was his daughter. He had scolded her and comforted her, read to her and put her to bed. He had been around since before she could remember. 

“Thank you so much Mr. Nemes, for that beautiful eulogy,” the pastor said as Len Nemes stepped down from the pulpit. “Now. Is there anyone else that would like to say a few words?”

Giles and Elisa stared ahead. 

All Giles could think about was how if he stood up and tried to talk about Andrew right now, he would probably breakdown sobbing so hard, several of the mourners would insist he be escorted out of the building. 

All Elisa could think about was that Andrew was supposed to be watching her graduate today. Instead she was going to watch him be buried.

As they stood in the cemetery, watching the casket being lowered into the ground, Elisa found herself overwhelmed by a wave of bitterness. 

The women nearby- Andrew’s mother, his sister, and a few other mourners- were all doing their best to sob quietly into handkerchiefs. Some did so openly, others were tucked into the shoulders of their husbands.

Elisa felt anger bubble in her stomach. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t meant for them, but dammit, it was meant for them  _ today _ . 

_ She  _ had a reason to cry quietly.  _ She  _ couldn’t help it. If she wanted to scream and yell and, what was the word,  _ wail _ , she always had to do so quietly. She had no choice. 

But those women? They  _ could _ scream. They  _ could _ yell and wail and everything else, and yet they were hiding their tears as if they were something shameful. 

You know what was shameful? The fact that Andrew was dead. The fact that there, in front of them, was a young man, a father, a lover, a friend, who was dead at forty-five.  _ That  _ was shameful. Not their tears. Not their grief. 

Elisa did not unclench her jaw until she and Giles were walking back towards his car. She was starting to get a headache. 

“There’s not enough people for a wake,” Giles muttered. “I was thinking we could go to Reginald’s and have a cheeseburger in his honor.”

Elisa shrugged and climbed into the car. 

Neither she nor Giles would ever forget the look of pure, raw shock that the waitress at Reginald’s Diner gave them when she asked where Andrew was. 

Elisa wanted so much to sign “you look how we feel”, but there was no point. Giles would be the only one who could understand her, and chances are he wouldn’t even interpret it, saying it would be too rude. But what did she care? She was in mourning. Sometimes you were allowed to be rude when you were in mourning. 

“Thank you Sharon. Really appreciate it,” Giles muttered as the young woman set the cheeseburgers down in front of them.

“Of course, hunny. On the house.”

Elisa realized that she was sitting on her hands, something she only ever did when her fingers were too cold. It was as if her subconscious was telling her  _ no, we’re not signing today. We have nothing to say. _

As she picked at the burger in front of her, Elisa considered something she had read in a book a long time ago. The passage had been about the Jewish mourning tradition known as sitting _ shiva _ . 

During  _ shiva,  _ family of the deceased sits for a week following burial and just… grieves. They cry if they need to. They wail if they need to. No one expects them to say anything or do anything. They’re allowed to grieve as much as they need to and as big as they need to. 

That sounded good to Elisa. That sounded like how grief was supposed to be.

But they weren’t Jewish, nor were they considered Andrew’s family. She couldn’t wail, and Giles couldn’t sit still for seven days, mourning or not.

They returned to their apartments and immediately made beelines to their respective beds. They remained behind closed doors, tucked away in their own little pockets of their own worlds, for three days.

_ Brrrrrrrrring. Brrrrrrrrrrring.  _

Elisa awoke from a dark cloudy dream to the sound of the phone ringing. She cursed in her head and turned over. 

“Okay. Okay. Stop. Stop,” Giles said harshly as Elisa pounded hard on the door. “I hear it. I hear it. God. Stop.”

Elisa huffed and took a step back as Giles stormed past her to the phone.

“Yes. Hello…. Yes this is him… Okay, okay. Please speak a little slower, I can’t… Yes I understand. Yes. This afternoon at 2pm. Alright, we’ll be there. Yes, she’ll be there too. Alright. Yes. Goodbye,” Giles said exasperated as he hung up the phone. 

Elisa pounded once on the wall.

_ What is it? _

“I think Andrew’s family just realized that he left everything in his will to you.”

 

“And  _ I’m  _ telling  _ you _ that that is  _ not possible _ ,” a woman’s voice screeched from behind the door of the law office of Jerome Weilbacher. 

Giles cautiously pushed open the door, Elisa in tow, to find a very tired looking man in a suit being berated by a woman he identified as Andrew’s mother. Behind her, seated behind a newspaper, was Andrew’s father, who was either not interested in the slightest or was doing his best not to come under the line of fire.

At the sound of the door closing, Karen Nemes turned sharply, her eyes narrowing at Elisa. 

“ _ You _ ,” she said in a deadly whisper before lunging in Elisa’s direction. “You stealing little-“

All three men in the room shouted or stood up. Giles stepped in front of Elisa as she recoiled. 

“You cannot speak to my daughter like that.”

“I will speak to your daughter any way I damn well please seeing as she has swindled me out of my son’s will!” Karen barked. 

“Mrs. Nemes, please,” the lawyer said in a tired voice. “Ms. DuPont has done no such thing. As I told you, your son wrote this years ago. He was in perfect health and a good state of mind. Besides, Ms. DuPont probably didn’t even know until just now that she had even been mentioned. Is that assumption correct, dear?”

All eyes fell on Elisa, who nodded timidly. She unconsciously stepped farther behind her father.

“See? Now, please have a seat and we’ll get started,” The lawyer offered. “I’m going to read through the will. It is mostly items of sentimental value, but it is still specific.”

Giles and Elisa took seats on the side of the table opposite of Karen.

“Herein lies the Last Will of Andrew Samuel Nemes,” the lawyer read. “Signed, dated, and notarized on the 14th of October, 1940. I hereby leave all my worldly belongings to Elisa M. DuPont who, at the time of this writing, resides in the apartment across the hall from mine with her father. To Elisa, I leave the twelve books that she took from my store so long ago. She returned them to me, and now I return them to her.”

“Twelve books she took from his shop?” Karen said angrily. “See, I told you she was a thief! You can’t possibly let his belongings go to a thief-“

“Mrs. Nemes, please. It clearly says that they were returned, so I don’t believe there were any hard feelings or problems. Now. Continuing on..

“To Elisa, I also leave the rest of my books. Please take that which you most want as well as those that you might find useful. If there are any that you do not wish to keep, please donate them to the Our Lady Of Sorrows Orphanage, so they may benefit other children who did not have the chance to be found and cared for by such a great man as your father.”

Elisa had already buried her face in her hands by this point, the tears flowing freely. At the mention of himself, Giles too felt his throat catch. 

“And finally,” the lawyer continued. “There is the matter of my apartment. If at the time of my death, Elisa is not yet eighteen years old or has long since moved away, then please release it to the next renter. If, however, she is eighteen and still nearby, I ask that the lease be changed to be in her name. I understand that as a common renter, I have no legal authority to so, but I still wish to make the request should it be possible. The apartment has great value to me, and I wish it to be left in the hands of someone who I know will always value it. Elisa, I leave this to you, so that you may always have a roof over your head and you always remember where home is.”

There was a moment of silence as the final words of the will hung in the air.

“What does he mean?” Karen started in a low voice. “So you can always remember where home is? Are you saying he… he was a...a...”

“No ma’am. We are not saying that,” the lawyer interjected quickly. “It’s merely a figure of speech I’m sure.”

“He was her fa-” Giles started, before cutting himself off. “...Favorite..  He was her favorite... mentor. He lived across the hall for sixteen and a half years. He watched her grow up. In many ways he… he helped raise her. He was a very good man, and a very good… friend to both of us.”

Giles faded as he was overcome with a wave of emotion. Karen stared at him for a moment and then narrowed her eyes.

“Fine,” she spat. “If he was such a good ‘mentor’, the girl can have his books. But I’ll be damned if she can have his belongings and his apartment, and I sure as hell will be damned if she can have his life insurance money.”

Elisa felt another wave of anger sweep over her, and the heaving of her chest increased but this time she wasn’t going to cry.

_ I don’t give a fuck about his money, _ she signed, her signs sharp and short.  _ Or his books or his stuff. I just want HIM. I want my dad back! I want him back! He was my DAD. My FATHER. And I want him back! But he can’t come back, so all that’s left is his stuff. All I have of him is his stuff.  _

“What is this? What’s going on?” Karen said, sounding, for the first time so far, concerned. “What is she doing? What’s wrong with her?”

_ You never even came to visit him,  _ Elisa continued _. You didn’t care about him until now. You didn’t care about him until he was gone. But I did. So take the money. I don’t care. But you’ll get my apartment and his books and everything else over my dead body, you BITCH. _

And with that Elisa pushed away from the table and stormed out. She was sure to slam the door as hard as she possibly could. 

She stepped out of the door into the street. For a moment, she panicked. 

What had she just done? Storming out of an official meeting like that? Calling a stranger a bitch? That stranger was practically her grandmother! This wasn’t like her at all. 

But the panic quickly passed and turned to angry defiance. So what? Who cares? She  _ is _ a bitch. 

Elisa picked a random direction and stormed off, not caring about where she was going at all. She ended up just wandering the city for hours, walking until her feet hurt.

When she did finally trudged up the stairs to her apartment, she was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. 

She unlocked the door to find Giles sitting at her kitchen table reading over several documents. 

“According to Jerry, Mrs. Nemes has every right to dispute the will, but seeing as it’s been a few years since it was signed and she didn’t seem to care beforehand, it’s probably not going to go very far. Same with the life insurance. That one we decided together. Took out policies that we both signed to you, just in case anything happened to either of us. That was a few years ago, so it might be the same deal,” Giles informed her calmly, not looking up from the paper he held up to read. “I guess we’ll find out. I have another meeting with him tomorrow.”

He turned in his chair to look at Elisa just as she threw herself onto the bed.

“Now you. I understand that you are upset that Andrew died, but you’re an adult and you nearly made a right fool out of yourself back there,” he scolded. “Almost had Mrs. Nemes convinced you had gone mad. I talked her down from that, but you, young lady, mark this one of those times it is very,  _ very _ lucky she could not understand your signs.”

Elisa rolled over onto her back and rolled her eyes at the ceiling.

“So what’s going to happen is that you are going to blow off whatever steam you need to tonight,” Giles said as he walked around the corner to in front of the bed. “And tomorrow you and I are going to go back to the lawyer’s office and sort this out like adults. We don’t want this to go into litation, litigation. Whatever the hell it’s called. We want it done and over with before you go to school this fall and you throwing fits is not going to help it get done any fast.”

Elisa sat up. Her jaw was set in a way Giles immediately recognized as his mother’s influence. 

_ It doesn’t matter how long it takes because I am not going to school. _

Giles’ brow furrowed as he frowned. 

“What are you talking about?”

_ I’m not going to school _ , Elisa repeated. 

“I understood that the first time. I want to know what you mean by ‘you’re not going to school’. Of course you’re going to school.”

_ No, I’m not. _

“Yes you are.”

_ NO, I’M NOT _ , Elisa signed furiously. 

“Yes you are. Elisa that is not negotiable. You are going to go to college and that’s final.”

_ No. I’m not going to school. I’ll go find a job. I’ll clean toilets or shelve books. I don’t care. But I’m not going to school. _

“Elisa Marianne, you are going to the University of Maryland at Baltimore this fall and that is  _ final _ . That is final,” Giles repeated, anger starting to grow in his chest as well. 

_ No, I’m- _ Elisa started to sign, but Giles cut her off.

“ _ How dare you _ ?” Giles snapped, his chest started to heave. “How  _ dare _ you? After all he did to get you there? After how excited he was? After how he sent away for information and proofread your essays and paid the fees and all that?  _ This _ ?  _ This _ is how you want to honor his legacy?”

Giles and Elisa stared each other down. When it was clear she was not going to win, she threw herself back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. 

Her chest was heaving too, but she had cried so much today there were no more tears to be shed. So instead, she took a deep breath and let it out in her best attempt at a yell.

But her vocal cords paralyzed and the muscles around them atrophied from a lifetime of disuse, instead of sound or even a loud gasp, the air caught in her throat she began coughing horribly. 

All of Giles’ anger dissipated immediately as Elisa rolled over, struggling to regain control of her breathing. He rushed to sit on the side of the bed away from where she was facing and began to rub her back.

“Deep breaths. In and out,” he murmured. “Come on Elisa. Deep breaths.”

Elisa took the deep breaths as instructed, though they were soon marred by sobs. 

_ I...want… him… back… _ she signed, each sign short and weak in between breaths.

“I know, I know,” Giles assured as he watched his own tears drip onto her shirt. “It… It… It’s fucking terrible. It’s terrible and it’s awful and it’s just the fucking worst thing that has ever happened in the history of everything. Isn’t it?”

Elisa had curled nearly into the fetal position, but he could still tell when she nodded her head.

“It is. It most definitely is,” Giles said with a sigh. 

He kicked off his shoes and scooted back in the bed so he was half-sitting up against the wall. Elisa felt the movement on the bed and looked up for a moment, before rolling over and resuming her fetal position tucked up close against her dad.

“It’s going to be just so goddamn awful for a long time,” Giles said, staring out ahead of him. “And then one day, it’s going to be a little less awful. And then even less. And less and less until we don’t even notice how bad we feel. And time will move on and then it’ll come back in a wave and it’s gonna wreck us. And then the wave will recede and we’ll keep going.

“Elisa, we can let it take over us for a while, but then, then we have to try to… to keep going. And- and-” Giles took a shallow breath. “And it’s never going to be the same. It’s not. It’s just not. But, hunny, we’re going to be okay. We let ourselves feel it. We grieve him. We let ourselves cry and all that, but we can’t let it change who we are.”

They laid there in silence for a long time. Eventually, Elisa heaved a deep breath and rolled over to her back.

_ I DO want to go to college, _ Elisa signed with a sigh.  _ I just… he promised me books from his store. He promised to be here with me. To support me. He promised... _

Elisa started crying once more. Giles pulled her close again.

“Well I’m here. And you know I’ll always support you,” Giles said. “But no. It won’t be the same without him. But Elisa you’re going to take so many neat classes and learn so many new things. You’ll enjoy it so much. And you can work to make him proud. I mean, he would proud of you no matter what, but especially if you worked hard to do well in college.”

Elisa cuddled closer to him. He moved from rubbing her back to stroking her hair. It made her feel, as she had felt so much in the past few days, like a little girl again.

“He was the second greatest gift I had ever received,” Giles said softly. “I take it you know what was the first?”

Elisa didn’t look up at him, but pointed to herself.

“Yes. You are the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. Though he was a close second,” he said with a chuckle. “And I know that he felt the same thing. Oh, kiddo, he loved you so damn much. He was always so, so proud. I don’t think either of us ever expected the chance to be fathers, and we always considered ourselves so lucky that we got to be yours.”

Elisa lifted a hand to wipe her nose.

“You know, you were the reason that I met him.”

Elisa looked up and cocked her head just slightly.

“You know that story.”

Elisa shimmied her hands out and smiled weakly.

_ You should tell it again anyways. _

Giles smiled.

“Okay. Well. You were a tiny tiny baby. Ang young too. Only about four months old. And I woke up panicked one day because I felt I was behind on learning sign language. I knew that was something I wanted to teach you from the moment they said you were going to be mute. I knew I wanted to teach you. So I was frantically searching for a book to learn from. Looking back, I think I was so scared because I was still so new at parenting and I feared messing up and messing  _ you  _ up and didn’t know what the hell I was doing.”

_ So not much has changed? _

“You know, this story was easier to tell before you learned how to be snarky,” GIles said, raising an eyebrow. “As I was saying. I had searched all these book stores and nobody had anything. And I had saved Andrew’s store for last because it was so close to my job and his store didn’t have any either. But he offered to order one. And there was nothing to order. So I left and went to work, and a week later he showed up with the dictionary. Said he had sent a letter to the School for the Deaf and explained what was going on and they sent it back. And Elisa, I had never been so… overwhelmed. This stranger had done so much for you and for me and for us. I was overwhelmed by his kindness. So I sent him a card and then I started stopping by and updating him on you.”

Giles sighed deeply as he reminisced.

“And one day we ran into him at the park. He was out walking, and I was painting, and you were planning your next big escape,” Giles chuckled. “As this was the period in your life that if anyone took their attention off of you for two seconds, you made a beeline for whatever body of water was closest. The ocean, the river, a pond, a puddle- it didn’t matter. Once we looked away you were gone. Kiddo, I cannot  _ count  _ how many times I saved you from drowning.”

Elisa smiled broadly at this, mostly because she remembered her father didn’t know this was something she consciously had to stop herself from doing  _ even now _ .

“You made a break for it that day. We were distracted by each other and you took your chance. But I caught you and said ‘we’re going home’, but I made sure to invite him to dinner that night. And he came. And soon he moved across the hall. And then he-he just became part of our lives.”

Giles stopped talking as he was overwhelmed by a wave of tears. Elisa cuddled closer to him.

“Oh, hunny. You knew what was going on long before either of us did,” he said in a low voice. “The day you called him dad for the first time. Oh hunny. It changed our lives. It changed everything.”

Elisa frowned and looked up again, her brow furrowed.

“What? You don’t know this one?”

Elisa shook her head.

“Ah. Well. He had been coming around for a while. You were probably about two, two and a half. I can’t quite remember. And one night you were playing and you ran off and grabbed a book and came back and signed ‘daddy, read’. Like ‘daddy, read the book’. And so he called to me and said ‘Giles she wants you to read it to her’ and I was cooking so I told you no and apparently... Here. Look at me.”

Elisa adjusted her head so she was looking up at him. 

“He said you looked towards me and then you looked at him and scrunched up your face,” Giles said, demonstrating. “ And signed ‘daddy, read’ and you pointed right at him. Right like this.”

Giles did the sign again.

“And kiddo, he nearly peed his damn pants,” Giles said chuckling. “He was so scared I was going to be mad and… and I wasn’t. How could I be? And I asked him how it felt when he saw you do that, when you called him ‘dad’, and he said he felt elated. It was the best- the best thing he had ever f-felt.”

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop himself from sobbing, but the tears came anyway. 

“I wish it could have been different,” he said through his tears. “I wish you could have told people he was your dad too. And that we could have walked down the street and I could have held his hand. And that you would know K-Karen Nemes not as that bitch from the law office but as your grandmother.”

Giles stopped talking as he cried more. Elisa hugged him tighter.

“Someday. I’m sure it’ll happen someday,” Giles assured, more to himself than her. 

They laid there the rest of the night, sometimes recounting stories, sometimes crying, sometimes just laying there, lost in their thoughts.

 

Giles proved to be right.

The first few months following Andrew’s death were the worst they had ever felt.

Elisa spent most of the summer after graduating high school volunteering at the library (shelving books) or in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Giles would have taken more time off work, but he ran out of vacation days, and though, for all intents and purposes Andrew was his husband, it was 1943. It was barely legal to be gay, let alone married to someone of the same gender. And you couldn’t claim “very close friend and neighbor” for funeral leave.

To make things more difficult, Karen Nemes insisted that the life insurance money belonged to her. Giles and sometimes Elisa had to sit through long, drawn out sessions as she tried to prove that she had the authority to claim it. Her husband let slip that they hadn’t seen Andrew in years prior to his death while on the record and she had no choice but to drop the case. 

Elisa was awarded the $20,000 life insurance payout. Giles used part of it to pay the legal fees, and the rest was deposited into her bank account to be used for rent, food, books-whatever she needed. It was a large and somehow still insubstantial win in what otherwise was a difficult and horrid summer.

But eventually, Giles proved to be right once again. 

As Labor Day approached and Elisa began preparing for classes to begin, she started noticing her grief less and less. She could get up and go do something and not think about it the entire day. And when classes did finally begin, and schoolwork became the dominant force in her life, she thought of it less and less.

Not to say she didn’t miss him. She did, and there were still bad days. But even those bad days and  the thought of him had started to feel less bad. 

Giles started noticing a change in himself too. As Elisa started spending more and more time in her apartment studying, or spending late nights in the library, he decided the best thing to do to not feel overwhelmed by how alone he felt was try and create. 

For months, it was hard enough to do  _ assigned _ artwork at work. He felt no inclination to design or paint or anything. But as he started painting at home more, channeling his sadness and his grief into art, true  _ original  _ art, he felt better and better. Even the artwork at work had taken on a new importance and meaning.

Elisa had started to feel a new importance too.

After spending the night(s) before her first chemistry exam studying harder than she ever had, she pulled the highest score on the test- a 72%. 

At first she was devastated. A 72% was a C. But when she realized that was a  _ high _ grade, and the other students started asking her questions or to study with them, not to mock her but because they truly believed she understood what was going on, she her devastation turned to pride.

Soon a small group of students gathered in her apartment a night or two a week to study. Sometimes one would bring snacks, or she would pop popcorn, and the group would spend hours practicing and reviewing equations. Organic chemistry being a subject that lent itself well to explanation through diagrams, Elisa found it easy to assist her classmates in working through the hardest questions.

December brought a cloud over their progress. 

Elisa’s first set of final exams fell right before Christmas, so tensions, and sadness, were running high. 

Their tradition for Christmas had always been to sleep in late, eat Andrew’s pancakes (the only food he could reliably cook), and then see a movie downstairs in the afternoon before Andrew went to visit his sister and Giles and Elisa went to visit his family.

But this year, what was typically mildly irritating became downright unbearable.

Giles’ brother asked, as he always did, when Giles was finally going to meet a nice girl and settle down. Elisa, who would usually enjoyed playing with her younger cousins despite being eleven years older than them, was informed by said younger cousins that she was ‘different’ and their mother told them they shouldn’t play with people who were different. 

Both returned home feeling worse than they thought they possibly could.

But within a week, a new year had begun, and soon they returned to work or to school, and a sense of normalcy returned to the loft apartments. 

Elisa had decreased how many classes she had opted for this quarter, which had turned out to be a blessing, as Anatomy and Physiology I asked for more work than she thought possible. She became so accustomed to spending late nights in the cadaver lab that she almost forgot the objects she was studying were, in fact, dead bodies. The keyword was almost.

One night in late February, she was rewarding herself for taking an exam that day  not by reading ahead as she usually did but by studying a very fascinating section on the anatomy of the neck and throat she had noticed earlier but had avoided in favor of her real homework.

It was as she poured over this section, unconsciously sliding one index finger over the scars on her neck as the other slid across the diagram on the page, when the phone rang.

She waited for the telltale sound of her father’s apartment door opening and his frustrated grunt as he went out to answer it.

“Hello? Yes, hello dad,” Giles greeted, hiding the sigh.

“Hey there Gil. How ya doing?” Daniel greeted on the other end.

“Fine. What do- how are you dad?” GIles said. 

“Eh. I could be better.”

“Oh? What’s wrong?” Giles asked, feigning interest. 

Surely his father was going to complain that his mother had caught him cheating again or had kicked him out.

“It’s your mom, Gil.”

Giles stifled a chuckle at his own prediction.

“Oh yeah? What happened this time?” Giles asked lightly.

“She passed away. Very peaceful. Laid down for a nap this afternoon and didn’t wake up. She’s gone, Gil. She’s gone.”

And that’s when things went to shit.


	10. Chapter 10

When Giles was a young man, the word “bender” was synonymous to “a really good time”.

He counted those hours and days he couldn’t recall as lost, not to addiction or abuse, but to alcoholic bliss. His lovers were always waiting at home, often with a drink of their own in their hand. He never got in trouble or suffered any real consequences for drinking, so who cared that the first half of the 1920’s were a blur?

But when he found Elisa and eventually Andrew, that whole mindset changed. The time was not the freedom he thought it was, but rather a period of time in which he realized no one truly cared for him. He came to resent the men who had just watched him be so reckless, who sat idly by as he attempted to destroy himself.

Now he had a daughter who depended on him for survival. He had a partner who worried when he worked late and didn’t call ahead. People cared about where he was and what he was doing, and he vowed never to lose control again and let down those he loved and who loved him.

So when Giles awoke on the morning of Saturday March 25, 1944 and could not recall anything from the day of his mother’s funeral on February 23, he knew he was well and truly fucked.

 

The first thing he saw when he sat up, other than a moment of black as blood rushed either to or from his head (he didn’t know which), was an apartment that looked like it was owned by a man who had died suddenly and left everything to his cats.

Most everything had a layer of dust so thick he could run a finger through it. Mail was piled haphazardly on the kitchen counter. The cats, to his relief, did not look bony or worse  _ dead _ , and circled his ankles, mewling for their breakfast.

Giles rotated his head on his neck, the cracks and pops reassuring him he was alive. He shooed the cats away and stood to go and grab the cat food. He was met with another moment of blackout.

When he had regained control again, he saw a pile of notes on a nearby side table. 

They were in Elisa’s handwriting. 

He picked up one. It was dated 2/27.

_ Hi Dad- I’m going to be studying late at the library tomorrow so don’t wait up for me. _

He picked up more, and quickly shuffled them so they were arranged by date. Oldest to newest. The more he read, the faster he shuffled through.

2/28-  _ Hi Dad, are you okay? I haven’t seen you in a few days. _

3/1-  _ Hi Dad, did you pay the rent? Mr. Arzoumanian is going to be mad if its late. _

3/4 -  _ Hi Dad, I paid both of our rents this month. If you want to pay me back, you can but I’m not worried about it. Where have you been? I’ve been feeding the cats but I haven’t seen you. Are you okay? _

3/7-  _ Dad, I got harassed at school today. It’s really bothering me. Can I talk to you about it? _

3/8-  _ Dad, I miss you. Can we go to dinner? Or I’ll cook something?  _

3/10-  _ Daddy,  you’re scaring me. Where are you? What’s going on? _

3/11-  _ Daddy, are you mad at me? Did I do something? Why won’t you talk to me? I know you’ve been home. I heard you, but you wouldn’t answer the door.  _

3/12-  _ Daddy, please talk to me. I’m feeling really alone. _

Giles shuffled through the remaining notes, sometimes more than one per date. They all said the same thing:  _ Daddy please talk to me. _

Until the last one.

_ Daddy, can we please do something together? Please? Just have dinner? Or just sit together? I miss you and I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know where you are. I haven’t heard from you in weeks. Please, please, please talk to me. I want to know you’re okay. _

It was dated one week ago on March 18, a day better known as Elisa’s birthday.

 

Elisa used to believe she could hold her breath underwater longer than anyone else in the world. Some of her earliest memories were of her swimming in the bathtub, trying to show her dads as they attempted to give her a proper bath.

The belief carried on into adulthood, even when she knew it to be false. People trained to hold their breath underwater. All she had was an active imagination and a propensity to swim in whatever body of water she could.

But recently whenever she slid under the surface of the bathwater, she was not counting the seconds to prove she could stay under longer than anyone else. She counted the seconds until her heart began to beat faster, until her lungs started to beg for air, until her body screamed in protest. Only then would she surface, breathing heavily, as the blood pounded in her ears to remind her that she was alive.

She had been lying in the bathtub for so long today that the water had long since turned cold. She stared at the ceiling. The cracks were growing. If it rained hard, it was sure to rain on her.

She took a deep breath and dipped below the water.

_ One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi _

There was a pounding somewhere beyond the bathroom. She ignored it.

_ Six Mississippi, seven Mississippi, eight Mississippi. _

“Elisa? Elisa?”

The voice calling out to her sounded vaguely like her father Giles. But it couldn’t be. He was gone, disappeared. There was no other explanation for his rapid and seemingly complete disappearance. The voice was just her imagination playing tricks on her.

_ Eleven Mississippi, twelve Mississippi, Thirteen Mississippi _ .

Her heart began to beat faster, and she felt the water hit her lips as they curled into a smirk.

“ELISA. ELISA.”

Elisa opened her eyes as the owner of the voice pounded hard on the bathroom door. The sting of the soapy water on her eyes and her quickening heartbeat pushed her to the surface, spluttering. 

She laid there panting. 

Before her head could come up with some other explanation, some reason that this wasn’t truly her father returned at last and that to believe so was some futile dream, her heart took over her body and she practically leapt from the water. She dried off as quickly as she could and threw her nightshirt and robe back on, not caring that water was seeping through the thin cloth. 

She threw the bathroom door open, and stood in shock as Giles stood before her.

Giles breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Elisa, but that relief was overshadowed almost immediately by his immense shame. 

In a word, Elisa looked awful.

The dripping water and pruny skin of a long bath aside, she looked close to death. Her eyes had deep dark circles underneath them. Her hair, usually cut once a month by a ruler,  was at least an inch and a half longer than usual, hanging in damp tendrils around her face. Her eyes lacked their usual fire and light. 

But what truly made her look like she was dying was the fact that she had lost a significant amount of weight. Though always petite, he could now see her collar bones pop out from beneath the fabric of the robe. Her face looked gaunt. Had she eaten anything at all this past month? Was she sick? 

But he couldn’t bring himself to ask any of this. Not yet.

“Elisa…” he said in a low voice, almost a whisper. “Elisa… My dear…”

Elisa stepped forward and put a tentative hand on his chest, as if testing he was real flesh and blood in front of her. 

Then she raised a second hand to his chest and Giles watched as her face contorted from hesitant disbelief to rage.She pushed him, but she was weak and didn’t budge him.

“I know. I deserved that. And far, far more,” he said quietly. “Elisa. I’m sorry. Are you-”

_ I’VE BEEN ALONE FOR A MONTH WITH NO WORD THAT YOU’RE EVEN ALIVE AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS ‘YOU’RE SORRY’ _ , she signed angrily, breathing hard. 

“I am. I promise I am. Elisa, I lost control and-”

_ I’VE BEEN ALONE. COMPLETELY ALONE. _

“Yes dear, I understand-”

  1. _YOU DON’T,_ Elisa signed, her hands shaking as she attempted to push him again.



She opened and closed them several times in the air, literally grasping for words. Angry hot tears rolled down her face.

_ I’ve had no one to talk to. Not a SINGLE PERSON. You know why? BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE UNDERSTANDS ME. NO ONE. AT ALL. Can you imagine how that feels? Can you? _ she asked.  _  I’ve had no one to talk to. Nothing but my thoughts. I can’t talk to anyone else. No one understands me or wants to. You left me all alone. Daddy died and then grandma died and then you left me all alone. You said you would always be there for me and you WEREN'T. YOU LEFT ME ALL ALONE. _

Before Giles even had the chance to open his mouth and say anything, Elisa flung her arms around him and collapsed into him. He caught her as she fell, and held her tight. 

He let her cry against his shirt for a moment before scooping her up and carrying her to the sofa. Not that he had picked her up much since she was quite young, but he could still tell that she was too light. 

“I owe you so many-” Giles said, cutting himself off. “I-I… Elisa. I failed you. I did the one thing that I promised I would never ever do: I let you feel unwanted. I swear I had no control. This whole month, ever since the funeral. I didn’t have any control. And I know that’s no excuse. Just- just an explanation. But I’m serious. I don’t remember anything that happened.”

Elisa wouldn’t look at him. Her tears had ceased and she had returned to anger when he had set her down on the sofa. 

“Elisa, I don’t expect you to forgive me anytime soon, or ever, really. But I promise I never intended to hurt you. But I did and I can never apologize enough for that,” Giles said. “Did- when you came in to feed the cats, did you see the notes piled there and think I was- think that I was ignoring you? Because I wasn’t. Well, I guess I was. But I wasn’t in my right mind.”

There was no response. Elisa kept her hands folded firmly across her chest as she stared straight out ahead, her jaw set. 

“I… I’ve had a problem,” Giles continued in a low voice. “My whole life it seems. With drinking. When you… when you came along, I gave it up. You were a baby. You would have died or at the very least would have been taken away from me if I had been, well, doing what I was doing. I couldn’t let that happen to you, so I gave it up. But it was always lurking there. And I let it take ahold of me when I was at my weakest and the monster resurfaced and pulled me under. And when it did, I had no control. I had no power to stop it.”

Elisa glanced at him of the corner of her eye. Giles took this as a good sign. She was listening.

“I apologize, to the deepest core of my being, to you. I have wronged you in every sense of the word and I must work to, not to just make it up to you but to rebuild your trust in me. I’m your dad. I have to act like it. And if I want you to trust me again, trust that I love you and care for you and would not intentionally hurt you, then I have to earn your trust again. ”

Elisa turned her head slightly in his direction, then her whole upper body so he could see her hands. 

_ I knew you were around. I heard you. But you weren’t here. Not really.  I came in one night and I tried so hard to get your attention but you didn’t even notice me. You looked right at me, made eye contact with me, but you saw right through me. It was like I didn’t exist. Like I wasn’t real.  _

Giles sighed. She was staring right at him now, as if trying to figure out if that would happen again. 

_ Andrew died, and then grandma died, and then you left. And I had no one else. It was just me and my thoughts and my thoughts they’ve… they’ve been really, really bad. They scare me. A lot. They told me that you didn’t really care about me and no one cares about me and that maybe I could just disappear too and it wouldn’t really matter. I couldn’t talk to anybody about what I was thinking because no one could understand me and that just made the thoughts even worse. But I don’t want to disappear! I don’t! I don’t! _

Elisa signed the last signs as if she was begging, pleading not with him but with the voices inside her head. Giles hesitated, not sure if she would let him hug her, but he decided it was worth a shot and scooted closer to her.

“I am so, so sorry,” he said quietly as she allowed him to wrap her in his arms. “I am so, so sorry I do appreciate you telling me that, though.”

He and Elisa sat there in silence. 

Outside, the sky grew darker as a thunderstorm moved in. The apartment grew dark. 

As Giles moved to turn on a nearby lamp, a thought occurred to him not unlike the light he had just lit. 

“Have you… Are you still enrolled at the university? Going to class and all?”

He felt Elisa nod against his ribs. Her pale hands popped out from being tucked under her head, but she didn’t sit up. It made some of the signs hard to understand.

_ If I don’t go to class, then I’m letting myself disappear. I’m giving them the opportunity to forget about me and I can’t let that happen _ , she signed.  _ Plus I’d be letting Daddy down and I can’t let that happen either.  _

“I can’t imagine it’s easy to do that if the voices in your head are being so vile to you,” Giles thought aloud.

A thumb flicked out from beneath Elisa’s chin: “it’s not”.

“Then perhaps we could both benefit from talking to other people about our problems. What do you think?”

Elisa did not respond.

Perhaps, Giles thought, she was reluctant do to the fact that her entire life had mostly been shrouded in secrets and lies, and nothing more so than their relationship with Andrew. To share not only her deep secrets and emotion with a stranger, but potentially reveal what she had been trained  _ not _ to reveal surely worried her. 

So he decided to set an example. 

 

Almost ten years prior, a few men had begun a self-help mutual aid group in Akron to help each other achieve and maintain sobriety. The organization was called Alcoholics Anonymous, and had quickly grown all over the United States. There were a few meetings a week in Baltimore, and Giles, eager not just to regain control over his habit but also spur Elisa into receiving help of her own, attended as many as he could. 

At first, Giles thought it would be relatively easy. Go to a group. Say your name. Admit you’re an alcoholic. Listen to do the others do the same. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. 

But the Twelve Steps that the group “worked” in order to get and stay sober proved to be more challenging than they looked. Granted, some he found easy simply because he had already done them. 

The First Step- admit you have no power over alcohol. The Fifth Step- confess your addiction to someone. The Eighth Step- make a list of those you’ve wronged and then the Ninth Step where you make amends to them.

These were all things he was actively working on with Elisa (his work, to his surprise, not having even  _ noticed _ his problem). 

But he continuously got hung up on their language. There was a lot of talk about finding God, the Second Step asking that you admit you cannot get sober without God. Though years later, the language of Twelve Step programs would be changed to defer to a “higher power”, in 1944 he was expected to find a church. 

This kept him stuck for months until one day he could fight it no more.

Early one Sunday morning in the summer, Giles informed a very groggy Elisa that he was going to church at nine am and that if she wished to join him, she was more than welcome, but she didn’t have to.

After establishing that yes, this was her real father, and yes, he was serious, she put on one of her nicer sundresses and followed him. As she tied a scarf around her neck, Giles performed a mental catalogue about what he knew about church.

Catholic services were consistent everywhere, but could be in Latin. The Lutherans also had a lot of ritual and tradition and liked to nail things to doors.  Presbyterians were stoic and believed everything was already determined. He didn’t know what ‘Episcopal’ meant and he was too afraid to ask.

He settled on a Methodist church. In truth, he wasn’t sure on what ‘Methodist’ meant either, but he had now been driving around randomly for almost ten minutes and Elisa was started to look at him funny. 

He parked and they made their way inside. A young white woman with bouncy blonde hair greeted them and offered to lead them inside the sanctuary. But as soon as the woman led them to a pew, Giles worried he was giving meaning to the phrase ‘sweating like a sinner in church’. He was positive any minute now someone up there was going to smite him. 

Of course, that didn’t happen. 

_ What did you think _ ? Elisa asked as they made their way back to the car following the service.

“Eh. Alright. I missed a good chunk of it. I-I don’t think my hearing’s as good as it used to be. Seemed like the preacher was talking pretty quiet. I didn’t get a whole lot of it.”

This was a lie. He had caught every word. It was not the hellfire and brimstone he had imagined, but rather focused on grace and the love of God. And of all the weeks he could have chosen, all the places they could of gone, he had chosen the church where the pastor was preaching on  _ remembrance _ . On how remembering someone, alive or dead, made a connection. That Jesus died to make that connection forever, so that no one would be forgotten or alone.  

Giles did not return to the church. He had tried, he told himself, and that’s what mattered. He placated his fellow AA members with excuses for not returning to church. But even he could not deny that there had been some kind of divine intervention happening that day. And that was enough to get him through the Second Step.

 

Though he did not return to the church, his move did spur Elisa on as he had hoped. She asked him one night to help her find someone she could talk to, a task made harder, as they often were, by the language barrier. 

Just as the AA members deferred to God for answers, the DuPonts deferred to the Maryland School for the Deaf, who provided information of one of the counselors in town who was fluent in sign  and would be more than happy to see Elisa. 

_ Good morning! _ The man signed brightly as Elisa entered his office.  _ I am very happy to meet with you! _

Elisa nodded, her hands weighed down by her nerves. 

_ My name is Peter, _ he signed, fingerspelling the name then following it by drawing his hand across his forehead like the word “forget” and pulling it away to form the letter “p”.  _ And you are? _

_ Elisa, _ she signed shakily.  _ Nice to meet you.  _

_ Nice to meet you too, _ he signed happily.  _ Now, I understand that you are not deaf, but rather a hearing and mute. Would you prefer me to sign or talk? _

_ Talking is fine. People usually just talk to me _ , Elisa signed quickly.

_ Just because they  _ usually  _ do doesn’t mean they  _ have  _ to _ , Peter replied.  _ What is more comfortable to you? _

_ Talking _ , Elisa signed. 

“Alright then,” Peter replied with a smile. “Please have a seat. There a couple things I want to ask before I get started, but I do want to ask first, do you have a name sign?”

Elisa frowned in confusion and then shook her head. 

“Okay. I just wondered as you fingerspelled your name.”

Elisa sat for a moment and then realized why he had added the second sign after introducing himself. She returned it.

_ Forget but with a ‘P’. For Peter. _

“Yeah. Exactly,” he said smiling. “My mother gave me that name sign when I was very young because I often forgot things. Where to go, chores to do, where I put things. I believe I was about four when she and my dad started using that, and now I’m  _ forty-four _ and I can assure you I’ve become a lot less forgetful in that time but the name has still stuck.”

Elisa chuckled. 

_ We don’t use name signs. Since I can hear, people don’t sign to me very often. My dad signs sometimes but he never really signs my name. _

“Well maybe you should think about that. Because you just signed the word ‘dad’ and pulled it away to form a ‘g’, so I’d think means he has a name sign but you don’t. Which is understandable, given what you just said, but still. You’re the one who signs. Shouldn’t you have a name sign?”

Peter gave Elisa a second to consider this. After a moment, she shrugged. He smiled again.

“Something to think about. Anyways, before we begin, I just want to let you know. Everything you say here is confidential. I can’t tell your dad, or your friends, or the police. It’s confidential,” Peter assured her. “And also, though my colleagues don’t really say this much, I like to say to that my job is here to help you. So I try my best to be impartial and that means I do my best not to judge. That way, I can focus not on  _ my  _ issues and whatever bias I may have, but to listen to you and help  _ you _ to the best of my ability. Okay?”

Elisa nodded, but now that she was seated in front of him and he had moved to start the session, her nerves had overpowered her again. She gripped the arms of the chair so tightly, her knuckles were white. 

“I can sense that you’re very nervous,” Peter pointed out, as if he could read her mind. “Could you tell me a little about that? What your expectations are?”

He spoke so calmly, so much like a caring brother or father, that her hands moved to answer of their own accord. 

_ I don’t want to go to the hospital. _

“The hospital? Like the state hospital?” Peter asked. 

Elisa nodded quickly.

“Can you share with me why that’s a fear you have?”

_ When people see me sign, they look at me like I’m crazy or I’m stupid, _ she found herself signing.  _ And if I tell you about the bad thoughts I’ve had- _

“You’re worried that I would commit you.”

Elisa squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.

“Well. I can tell you straight out that I do not believe those hospitals do anything for anybody. I think the  _ idea _ , of having somewhere where people who need help can go and stay is a decent idea, but what we have now is not that. So I can assure you that I will not do that,” Peter said seriously.  “Now, that being said, what we’re doing here? This session? It’s new. This field, this profession is still very young, and I became a social worker to help people. But that field is young too. Hell, until fifteen years ago, the only thing we did was work to help people in poverty. But now we’re recognizing that we need to help people in other ways too. 

“I’m still learning. But I assure you, I’m a quick study. I read everything that comes out on how to give counseling so that I may provide for my clients better. And I do want to help you. I want to help you get control of the bad thoughts and whatever else you may need. And I assure you I will not offer that as an option. But I will warn you that what we’re going to do her may not be any more effective. And I understand if that means you don’t want to try it. But I feel it my duty to warn you of that before we go too far. So what do you say? Is this something you still want to try?”

Elisa took a moment to think. 

It had taken her a great deal to even  _ get  _ here, and now this man was saying it’s not even proven to work? But she thought of her father. He was working to get control of his thoughts. And she wanted more than anything to get control of her own. So she nodded. 

It was alarming how easy it was to talk to Peter. But with that ease came a great deal of fear.

She started scheduling the sessions not in the beginning of the day as she had planned, but in the afternoons or evenings. They were helpful, if only to talk with someone else, but they were emotional too. She began doing her studying and homework early as she found she was leaving sessions exhausted and thinking of nothing more than collapsing into bed.

Her fear stemmed not from the sessions or from Peter, but from how vulnerable she was letting herself be. They had started exploring her negative self-talk and negative thoughts, and she found herself opening up about loneliness and fear she had never even shared with her father. As well, the more vulnerable she became, the more likely she was to slip up in her carefully guarded secrets. And one day, it happened. 

“Can I pause you for a moment?” Peter asked as they were halfway through the fourth or fifth hour-long session. 

Elisa stopped signing midair, and looked at him confused. 

“Sorry. I don’t want to interrupt your train of thought, but I just noticed something. Do you remember our conversation on name signs?”

Elisa nodded.

“And you know how name signs tend to have a letter referring to the person’s name and that they have an attribute of some kind referring to something about the person. Like I’m Peter and I’m forgetful. Or how the one you choose for yourself is the sign for ‘dance’ but with an E for Elisa, because you’re Elisa and you like dancing. Yes?”

Elisa nodded again.

“Now I’ve always thought it was interesting how you refer to your father with what is essentially a name sign. You sign ‘dad’ and pull it away into a ‘g’, which I’ve come to learn refers to the first letter of his name- Giles. That’s very similar to how many Deaf individuals give out name signs, and you gave him a name sign, even though you didn’t really know that was what it was,” Peter explained. “So I was curious as to whether or not you gave out name signs like that for other individuals in your life, and it seems no, you don’t. You sign ‘grandmother’ without that additional reference, and when speaking of your friend Alex, you fingerspell her name. So I figured your father’s was the only name sign.”

Peter was now sitting forward in his chair, his look both one of great interest and a strange excitement. As if he was close to solving a puzzle that had been eluding him.

“All this time, I thought you simply didn’t use name signs, save for that one for your father that could be chalked up to a coincidence. But that’s not true, is it? You have one  _ other _ name sign that you- Elisa, are you familiar with the word ‘overcorrection’?”

Elisa shook her head while trying figure out what the hell she just said that triggered all this.

“An overcorrection is when someone tries very hard to fix something but we go past the point of what is natural or required,” Peter explained, his eyes flashing excitedly. “And Elisa, you have been overcorrecting this whole time.”

Elisa’s face scrunched up in a look of disbelief and confusion. 

_ What are you talking about? _

“Every time you have talked about Andrew, you have referred to him as ‘your neighbor’ or ‘a family friend’. But the way you speak  _ about  _ him is very different. It is clear that he was far more than that. You had clearly known him a very long time and he was very important to you. And God, I can’t believe I didn’t notice this sooner.”

_ Notice what? What did I do?  _ Elisa asked. Could he not get to the point any faster?

“You fingerspelled his name,” Peter stated. “Every other time, you have fingerspelled his name, clear and defined. I thought it was just a form of courtesy to his memory. But no. When you fingerspell everything else, you fingerspell very quickly. But not him. You took care to spell his name, but not because you were being deferential, but because you were being conscious about it.”

Elisa blinked. 

_ What does this have to do with name signs? _

Peter smirked triumphantly.

“You just gave him one.”

Elisa’s blood ran cold. Her heart started thumping loudly, pounding in her ears. She watched his lips closely, because if he started saying anything, she wasn’t going to be able to hear him. 

But he didn’t. He just sat back in his chair, grinning benignly.

Elisa took deep breaths, willing herself to relax with every fiber of her being. She looked up at Peter. They made eye contact, and for a brief moment, they were both thinking of what Andrew’s name sign was: the sign for ‘dad’ pulled away into an ‘a’.

She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. She had done it. She had revealed the secret, the one thing she had been so careful not to share. 

What would he do now? Stop seeing her? Report Giles? Tell Andrew’s mother?

She felt the tears start to roll down her cheeks. Peter’s expression changed, not to the anger or disgust that she was expecting, but something softer, more like concern.

“He was your father too, wasn’t he?”

Elisa did not respond. 

“You’ve been careful for a reason,” Peter said quietly, almost regretfully. “Because it’s dangerous, isn’t it? Men are not allowed to-”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. They both knew what he meant. There were laws against it, even for consensual, loving adults. By confronting Elisa about the sign she had used to refer to Andrew, Peter had unwittingly made her reveal a secret that could get her father into deep, deep trouble.

“I’m not going to say anything,” Peter tried to remind her. “It’s all confidential. I told you that. It’s all confidential. And honestly, even if it wasn’t, I don’t really- I mean, I had so many friends in the Navy…”

He sat forward in his chair again, this time not excitedly but seriously. 

“I’m here to help you Elisa. And we’ve come really far I think, even in just these few sessions. And, if you’ll let me, if you can be completely honest here within these walls, I think I can help you better,” Peter said solemnly. “Because so far, we’ve talked about him as if he was just a friend. But he wasn’t. He was your father.  _ One  _ of your fathers, I guess. But he was still your father. And if we pretend he was just a family friend, if we approach his death as if he was just a family friend, then I’m not helping you the best I can, am I? The grief of losing a family friend and losing a parent are so- That’s what really happened, isn’t it? When Andrew died, you lost one of your parents.”

In an instant, the dam broke. 

Regardless of whether or not Elisa wanted to try and keep the pretense up, her heart betrayed her. Tears poured out of her eyes. Her chest heaved with her silent sobs. She broke down so hard and fast that time seemed to stand still and nothing else existed but her and Peter and the two chairs and the four walls.

Just  _ hearing _ someone else say it was enough. Someone who wasn’t Giles. 

It was frightening to reveal so much, but it felt  _ so fucking good _ . To be honest. To talk about Andrew and how much she loved him and how much she missed him and how much her  _ father _ missed him and how she worried she’d never be okay again. It felt so good to talk with such candor, to not overcorrect and just sign. 

Peter kept true to his word, and did not break confidentiality. Nor, it seemed, did he judge Giles and Andrew, as he had promised. Perhaps he did so in private, but he never spoke back about them in front of Elisa. 

He adjusted his counseling method too. He started using the word “father” to refer to Andrew, and changed his approach too. Elisa would arrive to sessions and see different piles of books on his desk about grief and the loss of parents and eventually sadness and depression.

Peter returned after a conference and began doing more research on Jean Piaget and the burgeoning field of cognitive psychology. He began to ask as much about how she arrived to different ideas and theories of her thoughts and feelings as much as he did about what they were. 

Before she knew it, it was the last week of the winter quarter in 1945.

_ I can’t believe it’s already March!  _ She signed to Peter happily.  _ This time last year, I was feeling just so, so awful and now I still feel awful sometimes but not as much. _

“Hard to believe how fast the time goes, isn’t it? And I would agree. You’ve come a long way,” Peter said casually. “ That’s why ‘time’ is what I want to talk to you about today.”

Elisa cocked her head slightly, urging him on.

“I think it’s time we begin terminating our relationship,” Peter said calmly, interlacing his fingers underneath his chin. “You’ve come a long way and I think you’re equipped to go on without me. So I’d say maybe one or two sessions and then we’ll end.”

Thought Elisa was hurt by this, as she left the session an hour later, she felt… good. It wasn’t that Peter was abandoning her like she had originally thought, but rather trusted she was ready to keep moving forward.

That night, she was laying on the couch reading, when Giles came in holding two cups of tea in one hand and a small plate with a cake on it in the other. 

“You’re not studying are, you? Aren’t you on break?” he asked as she took one of the cups of tea from him and sat back down.

She held up the book she was reading and rolled his eyes.

“ _ The Little Mermaid _ ? Again? Elisa, how many times in your life have you read through that book? Look at it. It’s falling apart,” he scolded playfully as she sat down next to her. 

_ It’s my favorite _ , she signed, tapping one middle finger to her chin as she sipped her tea.

“Mm-hmm. Well, today is March 25. One year to the day that I woke up from my hell dream and started to try to do better. And I am proud to say that in that year, I have not had a single drink, I have worked hard to become a better person, and most importantly, I have you again. So consider this a cake celebrating all of that. And also your birthday, since the bakery didn’t have any left last week.”

_ And last year’s birthday too _ , she added as he handed her a slice.

“Yes. And last year’s birthday too,” he agreed. “To your birthday. And to Andrew and to my mother and to us. My dear girl. I love you so much and I am so proud that I am your dad.”

_ I’m proud of you _ , she signed smiling.

“I’m proud of  _ us _ ,” he offered. “We’ve both come very far this year. To us.”

He lifted his teacup and she did the same. They toasted and drank.

“If we could get through this year,” Giles reflected. “I think we can get through anything. What do you think, my dear?”

Elisa set her teacup carefully on her lap and took his hand in hers. 

_ As long as we’ve got each other, we’ll always be okay. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Things are looking up! I realized a few things as I was writing this and one is that I have made Elisa cry in just about every chapter. I’m going to try not to do that.
> 
> A few things about these chapters: 
> 
>   1. I lost both of my maternal grandparents within seven months of each other. It was probably the worst period that my family has had to go through. I dug into some of that experience in writing this. And as I was writing chapter 10 yesterday, I kept having this feeling like it physically hurt too much to keep writing. I only today realized that yesterday was five years to the day since my grandfather died. It’s like the grief knew and told me to stop.
>   2. I did not intend to include the part about church and the sermon. In fact, none of this chapter, save for the first part, were even planned. But as I planned out how their recoveries would look, the counseling session came to me. Then I was in church today and the sermon was the one described above about remembrance. I knew Giles was going to have to deal with spirituality at some point due to his involvement in AA and it ended up working out perfectly.
>   3. Just so we’re all completely clear - when Peter says that confidentiality cannot be broken not even to the police, that is _not true_. Perhaps in 1944 it was but not now. After the Tarasoff v. University of California Board of Regents case in 1976 where a social worker tried to inform police that their client intended to murder his ex-girlfriend, got fired for breaking confidentiality, and then the client _did in fact murder her_ , it was determined that certain things revealed to social workers (I’m not clear on other types of counselors) are able to be shared. As of 2018 (in my US state at least), this includes mean, motive, and plan to harm oneself or others, or knowledge/ suspicion of  child or elder abuse. Also, there was another case in 1996 that determined that social worker-client communication is “privileged” like lawyer-client or parishioners in confession. Just fun facts to make sure you all know I paid attention in my social work ethics class. And also so you’re aware that times have changed.
> 



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! I just want to say that I love you all and thank you for sticking with this story for so long! It is most definitely the longest piece of fanfiction I have ever written and if you are reading, you've already read 40,000 words- and you're still reading! I appreciate all of you so much and I appreciate your comments and kudos, even if I haven't been very good at replying to you. Please know that I've seen them and read them over and over again and that they keep me inspired to push through to the end. I still have so much more in store for this piece, and I can assure you that unlike other multichapter fics I've written, I've got this one planned through to the end and I am so excited to write it.
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you
> 
> Also! From here on out I want to let you know that I'll be including details from the book. Nothing too spoilery, so don't worry if you haven't read it. I'm still following movie canon (aka movie AU with a canon timeline). If you have _read_ the book, it'll be kind of like an Easter egg. Little tiny snippets. I just wanted to add that before we dive into the next chapter.
> 
> Again... thank you thank you thank you. You are all the best and you guys keep me going.
> 
> See you at the end!

There were several things Elisa considered frightening. 

Spiders. Cockroaches. The rumors growing about the threat of nuclear war.

But not any of these fears, nor any frightening experience she had ever experienced, came close to the level of fear she felt when she was asked to compile a list of all her accomplishments onto one page of nice stationary and hand it over to a complete stranger to judge her life’s worth.

But that’s what a job interview required.

David Fleming scanned up and down her resumé, every so often glancing over the page at her.

“A Bachelor’s Of Science in Biology from the University of Maryland at Baltimore?”

Elisa nodded. 

“I was not aware they accepted women into their biological science program. But here you are.”

Fleming turned his eyes back to the paper to read on.

Her mouth tasted funny. She had been too nervous to eat today. Why did it taste funny? Bad. Her mouth tasted bad. Why did it taste bad?

“And a minor in Biochemistry. Oh ho, and research experience in… how about that? A water testing lab at the university.”

Iron. That’s what she was tasting-blood. Probably from the hole she had just chewed in her bottom lip. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little coincidental that you apply for a research assistant position and just  _ happen  _ to have worked almost the exact same position previously?”

Elisa couldn’t help but look very confused. It wasn’t coincidental. It was intentional. That was the whole point- she had applied for a job she was qualified for.

“I mean do you actually expect me to believe that you put together a resumé that lists the exact skills this job requires and  _ then  _ you found a job posting that asked for those  _ exact same skills _ ,” Fleming pressed.

This was not at all like the mock interview she had had with her father the previous night. Though of course, there were a few differences: 1) her father could understand her, 2) they believed he would be present to interpret (which had been the plan until he was stopped at the gate), and 3) he had not been trying to trip her up.

“I know you can’t speak, but I need answer. Can you actually do everything, perform all of these tasks that you have listed or did you lie on your resumé to make yourself look better?”

Elisa sighed, fighting back the urge to roll her eyes. He had just done the stupidest thing somebody who couldn’t understand her could do while talking to her: point out that they knew she couldn’t talk and then ask her a question she couldn’t answer with a nod or shake of the head. 

She decided to shake her head.

“No you can’t do it or no you didn’t lie?”

She raised her hands, ready to do her best to convey an answer when she remembered Last Night Elisa had planned for something like this and tucked a notebook and pen into her purse. She snatched it out and flipped to a clean page. 

She scribbled her answer and then tore the page out and handed it to him.

_ The second one.  _

“And you are one hundred percent telling the truth? So sure that you would swear on a Bible? Because I have one.”

Elisa nodded seriously, her eyes wide as she tried to get him to understand.

She was sure he was going to ask again when he smiled and sat back, pleased. 

“Good. That was a test. To see if you could stick to your guns under pressure,” he explained. “You see, this is a top-secret federal research facility. It is often unpredictable and dangerous. We can only afford to hire applicants who will not crack under pressure. And you did well. And for your information, I have already contacted all three of the references that you indicated on your application and they confirmed that you do in fact possess the adequate knowledge and skills necessary.”

He sat forward, pulling his chair up to his desk and interlacing his fingers on the desk. He looked at her closely through his winged glasses. She could feel her face grow hot as his eyes fell on the scars visible just above her collar. 

“‘Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you’,” Fleming said reverently . 

Elisa stared.

“Isaiah 35:4. Because verse 6 says ‘and the mute tongue will sing for joy’. You are mute, correct?”

Elisa nodded, not even trying to hide her ardent disbelief.

“Just a, just a little food for thought,” he said, waving it away. “From the Good Book.”

What the ever loving fuck?

“The position is a research assistant to Dr. Benjamin Moeller,” Fleming continued. “He runs the Department of Water Testing and Treatment. His last assistant was a student at John Hopkins and due to his class schedule had worked it out with Dr. Moeller that he would work overnight shifts. Now, I know you would not be bound by the same constraints, having already graduated and all. However, Dr. Moeller has grown accustomed to the set up. He says that having an assistant there overnight allows him to delegate the tests, leaving him to perform… whatever he needs to during the day. Your hours then would be eleven pm to seven am. Would that be a problem for you?”

Elisa shook her head, but that was a lie. The longer she sat here, the less she wanted this job.

“Wonderful. Now, I thought we’d go pay a visit to Dr. Moeller while he’s here. So you could see where you would be working and he can explain a little more about the position.”

With that, Fleming stood. Elisa followed him, purse in hand, out of the office and down the hall to an elevator. 

“Oh. I almost forgot. I should probably warn you,” Fleming started as they entered the elevator and started the long trip down. “We, and by we I mean the Occam leadership, intended to cut the Department of Water Testing and Treatment. We have changed our mission here in the last few years. And as you probably saw when you came in, they’re changing our signs. We are now the Occam  _ Aerospace  _ Research Center. Our priorities have changed significantly. However, as we were on our way to tell Dr. Moeller that, he informed us that he recently had been awarded a significant amount of grant money for an on-going project. We then couldn’t, in good faith, cut the Department. But I tell you. It’s not just our priorities that our changing. The country’s priorities are too, and I will warn you. Should we hire you, if and honestly  _ when _ that grant funding dries up, you will be terminated. Does that make sense?” 

Elisa nodded as the elevator doors opened in front of them.

Fleming led her down the hallway to a large metal door marked T-4. Fleming inserted a clearance card into the slot and then typed something into the keypad. The door moved sideways.

The lab was huge. Straight ahead from them was a huge basin tiled in bluish-green. As she followed Fleming inside, she saw it was drained and was far, far deeper than she had originally thought. 

“David,” a man greeted jovially from a desk tucked against the wall off to their left. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well sir. This is Elisa. She’s applied for the assistant position so I wanted to bring her down to meet you.”

Dr. Moeller made his way over to them.

“Ah. Well,” Dr. Moeller said as he wiped his hands on his lab coat and offered a hand to Elisa. “Very nice to meet you. I’ll say. We don’t get many women down here. A little surprising to be honest, but I’m sure if David brought you down, then you’re just as good as any of the boys, right?”

Elisa wasn’t sure if she should take this as a compliment or not, but feigned a polite smile and shook the man’s hand. When she just nodded instead of greeting him, he gave her the same look as so many before him had. One of confusion and offense.

“She’s mute, sir,” Fleming explained quickly as Dr. Moeller opened his mouth to comment. “Can’t talk. But she’s well qualified. Degree in biology, minor in Biochemistry, and past research experience.”

“Wonderful,” Dr. Moeller said, his offense turning back to contentment. 

_ What are those? _ Elisa signed, pointing at a series of large metal tubs with plastic lids with circles cut out on top. They were spaced out apart from each other not far from Dr. Moeller’s desk.

“Ah yes. My biomes. Come see. Come see,” Dr. Moeller said excitedly.

He waved them over to the tubs. Elisa peered over top one and couldn’t stop herself from smiling broadly.

Inside each one was a small body of water, complete with native plants and fish. Small motors churned water like a river in two,while the next two were still. The last one had a motor that made small waves that lapped against the side of the tub.

“Freshwater river, saltwater river, freshwater lake, saltwater lake, and ocean,” Dr. Moeller explained as Elisa peered over the tubs. “Each carefully created to mimic the naturally occurring biomes. Samples collected from the Patapsco River here in Baltimore, the Arizona Salt River, Lake Michigan, the Great Salt Lake, and the Atlantic Ocean respectively. They are my most prized possessions.”

Elisa made her way around one to peer into the next. Looking into them reminded her of the book  _ Through the Looking Glass _ that she had read when she was a child. Each was it’s own world, contained within the confines of the metal tub. She worried and wondered that if she was to remove the lid and fall in if she would disappear and never return. 

“I was awarded grant money to study the effects of pH on the microbiome contained within each one. My goal is to cultivate each biome, one at a time, in that big pool over there. To provide us better and bigger samples to work with. Then we’ll take controls and test samples and introduce the different acids or bases and then try to culture the bacteria. If any survives that is. How are your microbiology skills?”

Elisa wiggled her hand back and forth to signify “so-so”. 

“A little rusty, eh? Well, we’ll work on that,” Dr. Moeller said. “I’ve got lots of manuals and books for a good refresher. When exactly is it that you’re going to start?”

Elisa shook her head slightly, looking between Dr. Moeller and Fleming, who had paled. 

“Well, sir,” Fleming said quietly. “We haven’t actually hired her yet.”

“Well then why did you bring her back here?” Dr. Moeller asked frustratedly.

“Well sir I thought you might want to meet the applicants before I made a-”

“No David. That’s why we have  _ you _ .  _ You _ interview them, pick which one is best, and  _ then _ you bring them down here,” Dr. Moeller scolded. “This is a top research facility, David. You can’t just bring anyone down here.”

“But I’ve done her background check. She’s cleared-”

“But not hired,” Dr. Moeller said as he heaved a big sigh. “I guess there’s only two options then. You either hire her or kill her.”

Elisa gasped louder than she ever had before, and immediately clamped a hand over her own mouth, betrayed that  _ this  _ moment was the one it decided to actually make a noticeable sound.

Both men turned to look at her. Fleming wore a look of concern which Dr. Moeller shared for a moment before quickly smiling and shaking his head.

“Oh no, dear. We won’t kill you. It’s just a water testing lab. You’re just visiting and I promise nothing we do in this particular lab is so confidential or secret,” he chuckled. “We don’t kill people for that in here.”

This statement was not as reassuring as he intended it to be, mostly because Elisa’s first thought was that  _ other  _ parts of this facility did in fact kill people who knew too much.

“I like you,” Dr. Moeller stated continuing. “You’ve got that interest. That spark that I look for in an assistant. I don’t like the word ‘assistant’, really. It’s too… Well it implies that you’d be working  _ for  _ me as opposed to with me. And perhaps that’s just me, but I do prefer my assistants to be more like partners. After all I ask that you work overnight and run so many tests and trust you with my prized research. The least I can hope is that you enjoy the work. You would enjoy the work, wouldn’t you?”

Elisa weighed this. Everything up until the lab had been utterly disappointing and, if she was being honest, incredibly uncomfortable. It was too dark and solemn. The people were odd and strange. And the job itself might not last for very long. She could get a job elsewhere, she thought. Somewhere that had windows. 

But in here, though it was still rather dark and solemn, there was an air of… adventure. Discovery. Sure, she would be running tests at two o’clock in the morning, but she’d get to help grow these little worlds. To discover their secrets and learn all she could about them. The lab held an air of mystery about it, but the good kind. The kind that filled her dreams with mysterious dark water, the kind of mystery that enticed her to learn.

She nodded.

“Wonderful. Then I think we’ve found the right candidate,” Dr. Moeller said happily. “Why don’t we have David here run me up your CV this afternoon and I’ll take a good look at it and if I’m still sure about it, I’ll  have him get in touch with you. Sound good?”

Elisa nodded. They said their goodbyes  and Fleming ushered her out and back up to the lobby, muttering something about ‘protocol’ and ‘more interviews this afternoon’. 

The entire bus ride home, Elisa stared out the window. There was a brief moment during the ride when she could see the glimmering water of the Patapsco River. It always made her smile, but something about it today was even more beautiful. 

Her lip curled into a smirk as the realization came to her.

_ I’m gonna learn all your secrets. _

 

Zelda punched her time card at the time clock and turned in the direction of the women’s locker room. 

It was another day. A Tuesday, she was pretty sure. In her line of work it didn’t matter much. Another night. Another list of rooms to be cleaned and bathrooms to be swabbed.

It had been months since the last time Zelda had trained somebody. For a long time, as they hired several new janitors on, she had been the primary trainer. It didn’t bring her any prestige or any more money, but she enjoyed the feeling of being the ‘go-to person’. She didn’t get to feel important or necessary very often, and even just a few days with a rookie would be a welcome reminder.

She set to work, checking the QCC waiting for her from Fleming. She scanned it, checking for any changes, but none arose. Bathrooms on the third level down, and labs T-1 through T-4.

As she pushed her cart to the elevator, she decided to start with T-4 first. The kid who had been working there had left a few weeks ago (for medical school, she had heard). So far since it had remained empty, which was nice for Zelda. It meant another scientist who only worked during the day and wasn’t around to give her dirty looks or observe her cleaning habits while she worked.

She slid her keycard into the T-4 slot and typed her access code. The metal door unlocked and began to slide backwards, allowing her to enter.

It looked very much the way it had looked the past few weeks- empty.

But just as she was ready to pull out her broom and began sweeping, there was motion ahead to her left.

She looked up to see a young white woman with shoulder length hair peek around the corner. Zelda straightened up as the woman noticed her and stepped out from behind the wall, a scientific manual held open to her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Zelda said instantly. “I didn’t realize anyone was working in here. I didn’t think anyone was- It’s been empty overnight for weeks…I can come back later. So I don’t interrupt you. ”

The young woman shook her head and gestured for her to continue.

“You sure? It’s no problem at all ma-” Zelda answered. 

She caught herself before she called the woman ‘ma’am’. Mostly because this woman didn’t look old enough to warrant a ‘ma’am’. Hell, she didn’t look old enough to be cleared to come  _ inside _ .

The woman nodded and gestured again, this time with a smile. She looked genuinely happy to be here and seemed serious that the cleaning wouldn’t bother her.

It was her first night here, Zelda was sure. She was naive to the kind of place Occam would be, to the kind of person it would turn her into.

Zelda nodded back, trying to hide her suspicion. The woman did not move until Zelda had picked up her broom and began sweeping. Then she nodded once more and disappeared back  behind the wall to her desk.

As Zelda started dragging her broom across the floor, she waited for the woman to start asking questions. The scientists who worked at night, especially the new ones,  _ always  _ asked her questions. Sometimes about herself, sometimes about Occam. She had to answer them the best she could or else she could get reported on.

But no questions came. 

Zelda continued sweeping, moving forward across the floor systematically until she had gotten past the wall and could see the woman clearly.

She was seated at a desk, her nose in the manual she was reading. Zelda watched her for a moment. Usually when she paused in the line of sight or peripheral vision of the scientists they were sure to look up. But this woman didn’t. She just continued to read, every once in a while scribbling notes into a notebook beside her.

Zelda gathered up the trash from the nearby cans and then swapped out her broom for a mop. She repeated her systematic approach, ending up in front of the young woman again.

“I’m just about done here,” Zelda found herself saying.

The young woman looked up from her book and then sat up straighter, listening.

“Just be careful if you come over here,” Zelda warned. “This place is a little more humid than most. The floor doesn’t dry as quick.”

The young woman nodded in understanding and then smiled again. Zelda nodded again and returned to her cart. She opened the metal door and continued down the hall.

 

As soon as she had finished cleaning the men’s bathroom on the T level, she was ready for lunch. Her feet had started aching halfway through T-3 and hadn’t stopped since.

Zelda parked her cart in a nearby closet and made her way to the elevator up to the cafeteria on the main floor. 

The cafeteria didn’t serve real food at night. The kitchen workers overnight tended to serve the leftovers from the day as their main job for the night was to prepare everything for the coming day. Maybe that’s why Duane’s meatloaf always tasted so bad. 

Zelda wasn’t convinced though. Even reheated leftovers didn’t taste that strongly of armpit.

As Zelda approached the Automat to pick out something to eat, she found the woman from T-4 standing and observing the machine . She looked much too happy as she explored the options. It had to be first-days-at-Occam naivety again. There was no reason to be overjoyed about cold food served not by people but by a coin-operated machine.

Zelda stepped closer to the Automat and the woman noticed her out of the side of her eye and immediately stepped back, still smiling, as she gestured for Zelda to go first.

“No, no. You first. You were here first,” Zelda said, but the woman shook her head. 

She held up a brown paper sack that had been tucked close to her chest and then waved the Automat away, as if to say “I was just looking”.

Zelda felt the young woman’s eyes on her as she put in her nickel and grabbed a tuna sandwich out of the machine. As she turned around she made contact with the woman again, who gesture to the table behind her asking her if she wanted to sit down.

“I usually sit over there,” Zelda said nodding towards a table off to her left. “But thank you.”

For a brief moment Zelda was sure the woman was going to ask if she could come too. But the young woman’s smile faltered slightly as she looked at the gathering graveyard shifters- the janitors, mechanics, and kitchen workers- who all eyed their conversation suspiciously. 

Instead she just nodded again and turned to the table. 

Zelda went to her own and forced herself to stare at the tuna sandwich on her plate as she ate as she was well aware, and she was sure the other woman was aware too, that there was an empty seat right in front of her.

The brief guilt over this did not linger though.

They were from a different world, the graveyard shifters and the researchers. There was an unequal power dynamic. One small slip up and a graveyard shifter could be yelled at or fired or  _ worse _ . One small slip up from a researcher and they could accidentally discover the next penicillin and end up with a Nobel Prize.

Sometimes the new researchers who worked overnight would pay attention to the graveyard shifters for the first few days as they grew accustomed to their new jobs. But that vague interest soon turned to total ignorance as they threw themselves into their work. Then the only time they noticed was when things went wrong and they needed someone to blame,

But the new woman in T-4 didn’t seem to fall into this same category. And it made Zelda uncomfortable.

The woman hadn’t said a word to her (or anyone else as far as she could tell) but she always gave Zelda the same happy smile. It didn’t matter if Zelda had showed up to clean or if they passed each other in the hallway. It was always the same. 

And to add to her discomfort regarding the woman, Zelda had noticed something strange at lunch. 

The woman from T-4 had not invited Zelda to sit with her again, but everyday it seemed like she was inching closer to the group. She had packed a lunch everyday and sat alone at a table nearby with a book, but she wasn’t reading it. She sat too still, too tense. Like she was paying attention to something else. 

A few weeks after this began, she had just parked her cart inside the women’s bathroom of the T level and was ready to place the  _ Closed for Cleaning _ sign on the outside of the door when the woman from T-4 entered.

“Are you following me?” Zelda snapped before she even knew what she was saying. 

The woman from T-4 looked startled. Her brow furrowed for a moment as she shook her head slightly, raising a tentative finger towards the stall.

“I know you’ve been listening to us at lunch,” Zelda continued. “I’ve seen you creep closer to us. Pretending to read your book but I know you’re not. You wanna know why? Because your eyes don’t move. You’re not reading. You just listen. So who are you spying for? Fleming? One of the scientists? Who is it?”

The woman shook her head again, this time quicker. Her mouth was agape, and seemed to move slightly like she was trying to find what words she wanted to say. But still she said nothing.

“I’m risking my job- I’m risking my  _ livelihood _ to say all this, but you know what? I don’t care. Those people I sit with? Those are my friends. They’re  _ good _ people. They don’t deserve to be spied on. So while you sit there collecting everyone’s stories, trying to get people in trouble, thinking of whatever they promised you, just remember. A promotion or a raise or whatever it is they promised you. It’s not worth the reputation of good people.” 

The woman’s face first changed to one of solemnity, like she was agreeing with Zelda, but then it quickly shifted to stung. 

She raised her hands and for a moment Zelda braced herself to be hit. 

But the woman didn’t hit her. Instead, she started moving her hands around, forming different shapes in the air. Her eyebrows moved up and down, her expression constantly shifting as she replied. 

When she finished, she looked to Zelda for a reaction, but they both knew Zelda had no clue what the woman had just said. So she just shook her head and left. 

Zelda waited in trepidation over the next few days for Fleming to appear over her shoulder and dish out her punishment. However, no punishment came. 

The woman from T-4 stopped smiling at her and started sitting far away from the graveyard shifter’s table during lunch, if she came to the cafeteria at all.

It seemed to Zelda that things had finally reached normality again. The researcher in T-4 didn’t care about them anymore and everything was as it should be.

 

Months passed with no further contact from the woman in T-4. She averted her eyes if she ever passed Zelda, and always buried herself in a book or paid strict attention to the tests she ran during the time periods in which Zelda cleaned the lab. 

“ _ A special news bulletin _ ,” the radio announcer said over the loudspeaker during the shift change one morning in August. “ _ Baltimore residents beware of a massive thunderstorm moving through the area from about eight am to eleven am this morning. Those who can are encouraged to stay indoors and away from all windows. There is strong possibility of an electrical storm, so avoid all metal as you can _ .”

Wonderful, Zelda thought. An electrical storm was coming and she had to ride the large  _ metal _ bus home. 

Zelda hunched under the tiny overhang outside Occam, watching for her bus through the steadily increasing rain. Every other bus had already come and gone, leaving her the only one still waiting.

Through the deluge she could see the woman from T-4 run out to the edge of the parking lot turnaround towards a waiting car. She pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in. But then she climbed back out, running in the direction of Zelda. She was gesturing to “come on” and pointing towards the car.

Zelda looked behind her only to see the wall. As she turned back around, trying to figure out who this woman was signaling to, she made eye contact with the woman again. She repeated the motion and then pointed to the car again.

“I don’t need a ride-” Zelda began to say, but just at that moment there was a crack of lightning like the crack of doom. Water sloshed over her aching feet, seeping into her shoes. 

Before she had time to think further, Zelda was climbing into the back of the car. 

The woman climbed into the front seat and urged the driver, an older white man, to get going by smacking hard on the dash.

“Okay, okay,” the man said. “I’m going. I’m going. Relax. It’s not that bad out yet. Just a thunderstorm.”

There was another huge crack of lightning that struck a tree less than half a mile in front of them. This urged the man to shift into gear and begin pulling out.

“And to where are we going, ma’am?” the man asked. 

“Old West Baltimore,” Zelda answered automatically, as if she was the passenger in a taxi.

She could see the dull morning light reflect off the top of man’s head as he nodded. 

“And to whom do we owe the pleasure of ferrying today?” the man asked. 

For a moment, the man’s head turned to the right to glance at the woman from T-4. She shook her head. 

“Uh… Zelda, sir.”

“Very nice to meet you, Miss Zelda. I’m Giles and this is Elisa. Though I expect you two know that, having already met and all.”

Neither woman looked at the other, both embarrassed not to have found out the other’s name after months of seeing each other every night.

The woman Elisa tapped the man on the shoulder and made more gestures. 

“Hunny, I can’t watch you sign while I drive.”

Elisa huffed and turned to Zelda and pointed under the bench seat. 

Zelda looked down and found a pile of towels. She pulled one up for herself and then handed one to Elisa. 

“You prepared for this much rain?” Zelda asked as she toweled the water off her face. “How did you know it was going to rain like this? I didn’t hear them talk as much about the rain on the radio. Just about the thunder and lightning.”

Elisa shrugged. She signed something, which the man Giles caught out of the side of his eye.

“She says she just knew.”

They wound their way through Baltimore. The rain was falling harder and harder, and the man opted to drive slower. It took what felt like ages, but eventually Zelda instructed him down her street and he pulled into the driveway.

“Thank you very much for the ride,” Zelda said as she put her hand on the handle to get out. 

But Elisa tapped hard on the back of the seat. 

“Hold on one moment,” Giles said. “I think Elisa would like to say something.”

Elisa nodded and adjusted herself so Zelda could see her. She looked then to Giles and signed something else before directing her attention back to Zelda. 

“She is asking me to interpret for her. So I’m going to interpret what she signs as if she’s saying it. So just imagine I’m not here,” Giles instructed. 

“Alright.”

Elisa took a deep breath and then started signing. 

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened a couple, a few months- a while ago? Sorry, sorry. Interpreter troubles,” Giles said. 

Elisa gave him a frustrated look and then started signing again.

“I am sorry for what happened and I didn’t mean to make you upset. You were correct. I was listening in on your conversations at lunch and I should not have been,” Giles interpreted. “And I promise I don’t spy on anyone or for anyone. Not for Fle… Fleming. Sorry. Fingerspelling. Takes a second. Anyways- I’m sorry! Just keep going... I don’t spy for anyone. I just wanted to listen in on the conversation. But that wasn’t right of me to do. And I’m sorry. And I’m sorry it took so long for a real apology.”

Elisa took a breath and continued signing. Slowly, Zelda’s attention turned away from the owner of the voice she was listening to to the person who was truly speaking to her. 

“I’d like to say that it was delayed because of the obvious. That I wanted to apologize properly and there was no one to interpret for me and a letter wasn’t enough. But that’s not true. I didn’t want to apologize because… because I knew I was wrong but I didn’t want to admit it and I was too embarrassed and hurt and-and-”

Elisa’s hands hesitated midair, before one finally returned to her chest and then fell into her lap.

“And I’m sorry.”

“If you weren’t spying on us, why were you listening in?” 

Elisa closed her eyes and heaved a sighed. Her fingers flexed in and out, as she tensed and released her shoulders; the picture of someone who agonized over spilling their thoughts. She started signing, and it took a second for Zelda to figure out why the voice was delayed as she watched Elisa. 

“I  thought that if I sat with you all, then I’d just be listening anyways. So then I figured that it was basically the same thing if I sat at the next table,” Giles said.

Elisa rubbed her hands across her face and signed again.

“Hearing it said out loud sounds so much worse. And it is. It was stupid to think. I’m better than that. I  _ know  _ better than that. I’m a… Elisa. I’m not saying that.”

Zelda was jolted out of her focus as Giles turned on Elisa regarding one of her signs.

“No I don’t care that we say it all the time at home. I’m not- No! Not in front of a guest.”

“I think I can take it. Whatever it is,” Zelda offered, eager to get the conversation back on track.

Giles heaved a sigh.

“Fine…. I know better than that. I’m a fucking adult.”

“So you just wanted to sit with us?” Zelda asked Elisa. Elisa nodded seriously.

“Yes. Very much so. It is very quiet and alone? Sorry. Lonely… in the lab where I work. You’re the only one who comes in and says hello or says anything. You’ve been nice to me and I wanted to sit with you.”

“But that’s my  _ job.  _ I have to be polite _.  _ You’re a  _ scientist _ . I’m a  _ janitor _ . We don’t sit together. We don’t talk... We’re not  _ friends _ . That sort of… comraderie, it just doesn’t happen like that. You might not get into trouble for it but we will.”

“I understand,” Giles continued as Elisa signed. “But nobody notices me anyways. I’m going to get ignored no matter where I sit, so does it really matter who I sit next to?”

“Fleming won’t ignore you. He notices everything and everybody. And he would definitely notice that.”

“He would not- Elisa turn this way I can’t see your hands- He would not notice me because he does not look at me because I… embarrassed him during my interview. In front of my… PI? What does that mean? P-I?”

“It means Principal Investigator. The leaders of the research studies,” Zelda answered Giles before turning back to Elisa. “And that might be nice for you and all but that doesn’t mean you’re a shield for the rest of us. And take this the best way you can, but we’re not going to get in trouble just so you don’t have to sit alone. It’s not worth it.”

Elisa nodded, sighing. She raised her hands to her temples and then signed again.

“Then at least can I please sit at the next table? And listen?”

“Woman do you know how pathetic that sounds?” Zelda said.

“Yes… I do…How do you think I feel?” Giles replied as he read Elisa’s fingers. “But I’ve spent too many years sitting alone. My lab is too quiet and lonely and I just want to be near people. And I don’t want this to be like high school again but this time for the rest of my life… I’m too old for that.”

Zelda had been on the verge of snapping something about Elisa not looking ‘too old’ for anything when Elisa made pointed eye contact with her.

Perhaps it was the fact that she was soaking wet from the rain and the water seemed to clear all pretense away, but it felt like it made sense.

Talking about lunch tables made it sound like a schoolyard affair. Like they were children. But the woman if front of her was no child. She was a woman, a full grown woman, very young but still somehow old, asking for the barest of minimums. Just let her sit there. Let her listen. Let her be with someone else and not just alone with her thoughts.

She craved human connection, and by God, Zelda did too. How much did she know that the moment she got out of this car and walked through the rain into that house was she going to be alone with her thoughts too? Or when she walked through the huge hulking building tonight? Aching to be heard just as much as this woman was aching to listen.

Elisa was tired. And Zelda was tired. 

Perhaps they had more in common than she thought.

“Fine,” Zelda said, throwing her hands up. “You can sit with us at lunch if you want. But the moment anyone starts having a problem with it or gets in trouble, I’m blaming you.”

Elisa nodded seriously and signed once more.

“Please do,” Giles interpreted. 

“Alright then,” Zelda said, nodding. “And thank you for your apology.”

Elisa smiled weakly and put one hand, fingers together, to her chin and then pulled it away. She repeated the motion again and then made a ‘y’ with one hand and moved it back and forth.

“You’re welcome. And thank you as well.”

Somehow that one Zelda knew.

She bade her goodbyes and climbed out of the car and started towards the house. She couldn’t be quite sure, especially after she made it inside and the lightning struck hard a few blocks away and shook the whole house, but she could have sworn the rain didn’t touch her her whole walk in.

 

As Elisa had predicted, no one noticed her join the lunch table. Not the graveyard shifters. Not the scientists. Not Fleming. 

But Zelda noticed. 

And slowly, as Elisa spent longer with them, the more Zelda found herself talking directly to Elisa. For a while the quiet woman just nodded or shook her head. But slowly she started adding in signs. They were small at first, and simple, so Zelda could commit them to memory.

One day over a year after Elisa started, Zelda came in sick with a cold and wasn’t interested in talking much. It made their lunch very quiet, and Zelda realized it wasn’t enough to have a one way relationship. 

The next day Elisa brought in a worn sign language dictionary.

And day by day, Zelda learned more and more. Elisa helped as she could, and it became easier for them to have full conversations with each other. They talked about their home loves, their love lives (or lack thereof). They discussed the weather and the news and everything.

By the time the graveyard shifters actually got around to noticing Elisa’s presence and took umbrage,  Zelda shot them down. She was  _ not _ going to let them kick her closest friend out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So one thing that I've thought about as I've been writing this, especially given that it is both my most in-depth AU that I've ever written as well as my longest piece of fanfiction ever, is that one thing that you can count on in an AU is that the characters will always find each other in the end. They may exist in different timelines or experience different events or circumstances, but in the end they always find each other.
> 
> And that makes me happy. And though I don't write AUs very often (which you probably don't believe considering two of my four works on this site are AUs), I enjoy them not just because  I get to make a new world where the circumstances are different enough that it is not quite the same as the soruce material, but because I get to make the world and find the circumstances and the ways to still bring them together. 
> 
> Now for a long explanation of how I got to this version of the chapter that no one asked for but I want to explain anyways:
> 
>  Do you remember when I said that a big part of this AU is that Elisa was going to have an adovocate? That she was going to have push her to do what she loved or was interested in? I think it's clear (or at least I hope it's clear) that Andrew was a major advocate for Elisa. Giles is too, of course, but Andrew was specifically an advocate for her education. That aspect of the story came to me right around the time that I was struck with the idea of Elisa and the dead fish (back in [chapter 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660455/chapters/31696857)) and it made sense, given that she would eventually end up working for Occam that maybe she would end up a scientist instead. 
> 
> At first, I toyed with the idea of Elisa getting talked about by the graveyard shifters and Zelda standing up for her. But the longer I thought about it, the more it became clear that that wouldn't work in this instance. Elisa and Zelda met in the movie and the book because they worked the same job. They were on the same level. But if Elisa was a scientist and Zelda was still a janitor, not to mention the racial issues of the time, a friendship between the two was far less likely. But I knew it had to happen. That it was  _going_ to happen. I just had to figure out how. 
> 
> So I talked to myself (as I always do when I write) over and over again, trying different dialogue and questions and action and we landed here. I hope it did them justice- different, but still the same. And ultimately, is that not what  _The Shape of Water_ teaches us?
> 
> I'm very excited to write the coming chapters. Things will be different but they're going to be the same too.  I'm sorry that this story is _so fucking long_ and this note is too, but know it's long because I have this whole exciting alternate universe built in my head and I want to share it all with you guys.
> 
> Thank you so, so, so much for reading. I hope this and the coming chapters continue to keep you _hooked_... .... .... Get it?


	12. Chapter 12

Four years after Elisa began her nightly trips to Occam, Dr. Moeller suffered a stroke and passed away very suddenly. 

As the grant money they had assumed would be gone by now had  _ not  _ been cut but was still unlikely to remain in place for long, Occam hesitated in seeking out another distinguished researcher to replace him. However, as a month passed and the funders of the program started calling to ask where their reports were, they were forced to do  _ something. _

Given that there was already one employee who was both familiar enough with the project and it’s requirements to continue it  _ and _ was still considered expendable enough should the money be pulled, David Fleming (very reluctantly) appointed Elisa the Principal Investigator of the on-going water testing study and by extension Director of the Department of Water Testing and Treatment.

He did so with all the pomp and circumstance of somebody celebrating another month of their infant son’s colic.

“These need filled out and sent out by seven thirty tomorrow,” Fleming said as he dropped a stack of papers on her desk less than two minutes after she walked in the door. “Provide the numbers, the narrative, any and all statistics you have and then deliver them downstairs to the mailroom. I’ve already instructed them to ship it first-class. And then once you’re done with the report, you need to complete the monthly budget and deliver it to me. It was due last Tuesday so you’re already behind.”

He fished in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys which he dropped on the desk in front of her. 

“Here are your new keys and we’re in the process of issuing you a new clearance card. You’re salary will be increased slightly to compensate for the fact that we are not allowing you to hire your own assistant. You will be expected to attend PI meetings at nine thirty am every third Thursday of the month as well as schedule monthly meetings with me to be determined at a later date. You  _ are  _ allowed the option to remain on the overnight shift if you so choose but you would still be expected to attend any and all daytime meetings that are expected of you. Do you understand?”

Elisa stared at him for a moment. She slowly lowered her arm, which at this moment she remembered she had been in the process of pulling out of the sleeve of her coat. 

“I said do you understand me?”

Elisa nodded.

“Wonderful. Well then. If there’s nothing else-“

Fleming was ready to turn to leave when Elisa tapped on the table. He watched as she scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

_ Can I get an interpreter for the meetings please? _

“It’s… not likely,” Fleming said. 

Elisa sighed and scribbled something else down and handed it to him.

_ Then can you clear Zelda Fuller to attend the meetings with me? She can interpret.  _

“That would be against protocol. We cannot allow that.”

Elisa was ready to tell Fleming where he could shove his protocol when the door slid open and  Zelda entered with her cart.

“Elisa you won’t  _ believe _ what Brewster sa-Oh. Hello Mr. Fleming, sir,” she said as she noticed him. “I didn’t realize you two were having a meeting. I’ll come back later…”

_ No. Don’t leave. He won’t let me have an interpreter at meetings he wants me to go to, _ Elisa signed.  _ So I’m going to sign to you REALLY EMPHATICALLY for a minute to make him think that I’m going to report him or something which I can’t do but I’m going to make him think that anyways. Can you please say ‘I don’t think he’d want them involved’? _

“Alright. Alright. Just… Just…” Zelda said, improvising the best she could. “It’s not- Yes I understand but I don’t think he’d want them involved.”

Fleming quickly turned to panic. The ruse worked. Zelda was cleared to join Elisa at every required meeting.

What Fleming didn’t tell Elisa was that in addition to the new responsibilities to Occam, she was now considered a representative of the facility which meant when special guests came in, she should expect a visit and be willing to share her research.

However, because Fleming did not tell her this, nor did he  _ ever _ tell her when these visitors were coming, he was held responsible for the unfortunate incident in which he and Senators John Bricker of Ohio and James Glen Beall of Maryland came into T-4 to find Elisa in short pants standing in the large basin with water up to her knees giving what appeared to be a lecture to a starfish. 

Zelda, who had been called in to interpret, claimed that Elisa was just signing her thoughts to herself as she observed the starfish when in fact she had seen Elisa sign “I need you to work with me” one handed to the five legged echinoderm held with two fingers in front of her.   

Fleming did not bring any visitors down to the lab after that.

Months passed, quickly turning to years. Elisa’s thirtieth birthday crept up on her and before it felt like any time had passed before she was celebrating thirty-five. The older she got, the more the “bad thoughts” returned. Though they were never as bad as they had been in the throes of grief, they still reminded her that she was getting older and was still alone and that nothing she did could stop the unending march of time.

She was not as bothered by her own age as much as she was about her father’s. Though for the most part he was pretty hearty and spry, around the time of his sixtieth birthday he had a minor health scare (“I swear I just thought it was the flu!”) which made Elisa come to realize exactly how old he was. Once he had recovered, they started conversations about retirement. 

So now at sixty-two Giles was settling into a free-lance deal he had negotiated with Klein and Saunders in return for retiring early. He claimed to be happy about the deal, but Elisa knew better.

His job was the last remaining source of steadiness in his life. He had been with the ad agency for so long, and ever since Elisa had started working nights, it gave him company during the day. Not to mention every time his work was used in an ad, it gave him an immense sense of satisfaction.

Now, his only daytime companions were his easel, the four cats, and a human skull named Andrzej he found while cleaning out his dad’s old house.

Elisa had long suspected he talked to when she wasn’t around. For a while she wondered if she pretended it was her, but one night when she returned one morning and pressed her ear to the door to listen, she realized how similar the skull’s name was to her father’s long deceased lover. 

 

As Elisa made her way down the hallway towards T-4, she reviewed her mental checklist for the night. She had been trying to introduce the saltwater river biome to the large pool for months and it seemed like it was actually going to take this time.

She slid her clearance card into the slot and typed her access code before going in. But as soon as she stepped inside, she immediately stepped back out, consulted the painted number on the wall to make sure she was in the right place, and then went stepped in.

Her usual quiet, lonely lab was bustling with people. Over a dozen men were in motion. Some mechanics in white jumpsuits were installing a huge metal contraption over on the left. Some in white coats were filling the large basin with water, overseen by a man in with dark hair and glasses. Others were moving equipment or sterilizing things.

“Elisa! Elisa come here,” she heard Fleming’s voice call. 

She turned just in time for David Fleming to put an arm around her shoulders and led her in the direction of the bespectacled scientist. 

“Lab T-4 has been reassigned,” Fleming muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “And you with it.”

He caught the attention of the scientist before smiling brightly as they approached him.

“Dr. Hoffstetler, sir? This is Elisa. She will be your research assistant for the time you are here. She was previously in charge of this lab running our water testing study, so she’s very familiar with T-4 and will be a great help to you while you’re here.”

Elisa barely had time to give Fleming a dirty look before Hoffstetler held out a hand.

“Wonderful. Dr. Robert Hoffstetler,” Hoffstetler said with a smile as she shook his hand. “Now, I wanted to say we appreciate you starting to fill the basin to mimic the conditions necessary for the asset. You did an exemplary job with the plants, however the salinity is much too high for the creature so our team has begun diluting it.”

Immediately Elisa’s neck snapped towards the large pool and by extension her sample. She had been so overwhelmed by all of this that she hadn’t even started to think about her research.

“Well, sir,” Fleming said, still smiling. “Elisa was not aware of the change prior to now, so it is most likely a leftover of the previous study.”

Hoffstetler’s mouth fell open. 

“It was your… oh dear. I didn’t know- I thought it was just… We made sure to store the other samples, the tubs… But we didn’t know that that was… also...”

“Don’t worry about it, Doctor,” Fleming said happily. “In all honesty, we probably should have cut the program back in ‘51 when our principal researcher died. It was well-funded though, so we kept it going and put Elisa here in charge. The study was absolutely useless compared to what you’ll be doing with this next one. We’ve redirected what’s left of that funding here so you should have everything you need to move forward. And with that comes Elisa here. And she’s happy to help in whatever way she can.”

Hoffstetler nodded vaguely at the man’s words, but his attention was on the quiet woman in front of him who was still staring at the large pool.

“We’re very happy to have you here, Doctor,” Fleming assured. “I’ll just leave you two alone so you can fill her in. Oh and a word of warning- she doesn’t talk. Should be no problem though, sir. She can hear you just fine and is perfectly able to follow directions. Just tell her whatever you need to do and she’ll be happy to do it. Right Elisa?”

Fleming clapped Elisa on the shoulder rather roughly to jerk her back to the present. Elisa flinched hard at the motion, but it was enough to turn her attention back to the men.

“I said  _ right, Elisa _ ?” Fleming repeated, squeezing her once more.

The gnawing feeling in the pit of Hoffstetler’s stomach grew stronger as he watched Elisa tense but still nod. Fleming smiled obliviously.

“Right then. Let me know if you need anything.”

Both Elisa and Hoffstetler nodded slightly as Fleming left. As soon as he was gone, Elisa returned to looking off at the pool.

“I am terribly sorry about your sample,” Hoffstetler said in a low voice only Elisa could hear. “And your program. I’m sure it was not useless as he said. Years of dedication like that.. I’m sure you learned a lot that would truly benefit the rest of us.”

Elisa turned her attention back to him. Hoffstetler watched as her expression changed from heartbroken to forced acceptance. She smiled the best she could and shook her head, which he read as “it doesn’t matter”.

“I was sure not to get rid of any of your notebooks. They’ve been stored away, but not destroyed. Perhaps when this whole affair has passed, you can revisit it. Continue it.”

She bit her lip and nodded politely. His chest clenched uncomfortably. Had Fleming not just said her department had been cut and all the funding was now being funneled to him? When this was all over, she’d be out of a job. 

Hoffstetler was about to say something else when the metal door to T-4 slid open and a black woman pushing a janitor’s cart. She was barely inside the door before she stopped, taken aback by the flurry of commotion. 

She made brief eye contact with Elisa, who too had turned to see who had come in. Hoffstetler watched as Elisa’s hands, held low over her stomach, quickly moved. The other woman must have understood the movement’s meaning as she nodded and continued pushing her cart forward.

“Lou! You boys mind throwing the trash in the can? That’s what it’s there for.”

Elisa watched the other woman berate the mechanics about their trash for another second before turning back to Hoffstetler. She smiled slightly once more, and then seemed to wait for his direction. 

Before he could say anything, Fleming cleared his throat. 

“A moment of your time,” he called, ushering everyone around. 

As Hoffstetler stepped forward, Elisa took her chance to escape to Zelda’s side. 

“Today we will be receiving a new asset here in T-4. This is Dr. Robert Hoffstetler from our sister facility in Galveston,” Fleming said, motioning to Hoffstetler, who nodded. “Now I don’t want to bolster or… overstate the matter, but this may be the most sensitive asset ever to be housed in this facility.”

At that moment, there was the sound of a buzzer as the door to the lab slid open. The group turned to see a huge green tank like an iron lung being wheeled into the lab by several men, followed by an austere white man in a bespoke coat.

The tank was parked right in front of where Elisa and Zelda stood. The man wandered off, asking about security. Hoffstetler checked something about the the tank as Fleming went to introduce himself and kiss high ranking government official ass. 

Zelda returned to picking up the trash from the floor. Elisa was about to move to follow Hoffstetler and await instructions when the water inside the tank moved. 

She looked around for a moment to see if anyone was watching. When she was sure no one was, she stepped forward and peered inside. The water was murky, but she knew she had seen something move inside it. 

Gently, she ran a finger over the glass. Nothing happened. She tapped gently with a finger. 

A hand, bigger than any man’s shot up and smacked hard against the glass. She leapt backwards as the men around shifted into action.

“Get the janitor out,” Hoffstetler ordered. 

Men began pushing Zelda towards the door. 

“And you. Assistant!” he barked. 

Elisa turned quickly. 

“Four black coffees,” he ordered. “ _ Now _ .”

 

Elisa stared at the rotating selection of pies and sighed. Her father was starting at a different one, waxing on about Greek mythology and where some word came from. When she was younger, she’d always hold on to every word of these stories. Usually, she still would. But on days like today, all she wanted to do was snap at him about the fact that there were no direct signs for words like “tantalizing” so she really didn’t care where the word came from.

“Are you  _ the _ Dixie Doug?” he asked as the man at the counter put two slices of lime pie in a bag to go.

Elisa sat at the counter and rolled her eyes. 

She knew damn well why they were here and it was not because her father enjoyed the pie. 

He wanted to flirt with the cute man at the counter, and while she wasn’t going to stop him, it didn’t mean she had to like it. 

Part of it was that she felt it was an insult to Andrew’s memory. But it had been nearly twenty years since Andrew had died. Her father still missed him every day, but he had begun to move on. Sometimes Elisa imagined she could hear his voice in her head: “ _ As long as you and your father are loved and cared for, you should do whatever makes you happy”. _

_ She _ loved and cared for her father. Wasn’t that enough?

Elisa knew though that her feeling were merely those of a child who didn’t want to see their parent date again after their other parent’s death. But there was real fear too. 

At this point in her life, she was convinced that the only reason her fathers’ relationship had been able to be what it was was because it happened behind closed doors. In their own little world up in the loft apartments, men could be happily in love and raise a child in a loving home. One didn’t have to talk to have a conversation, and swimming in the bathtub happened well into adulthood.

But theirs was not a microcosm. The world was changing, yes, but was not there yet. Elisa feared it may never be.

When they returned to his apartment, she attempted to choke down the lime green pie. She had never eaten plastic per se, but she was sure that if she did,  _ this _ is what it would taste like. And as her father scolded her for spitting it out and took the rest to the pie-stocked fridge (that he thought she didn’t know about), she wondered if perhaps the fake color and strong chemical taste indicated that it was plastic after all.

“Dear God change that awfulness,” he warned as she changed the channel to news coverage of a civil rights protest. “I don’t want to see that.”

She clicked the remote again and  _ Coney Island _ with Betty Grable came on.

“That’s better, that’s better,” he said, returning to his seat. “Look at Betty. Oh to be young and beautiful.”

Elisa nodded, eyes fixed on the screen. She imagined what it would be like to get to dance on a soundstage, hair and face all dolled up, surrounded by men as she twirled around in a nice dress. As she admired Betty’s dancing feet, her eyes followed her legs up to the fur-trimmed dress and she wondered, as she sometimes did when looking at debonair men and beautiful dancing women, if she wanted to be them or she wanted  _ them _ . 

“If I could go back to when I was eighteen and I didn’t know anything about anything, I’d give myself some advice,” Giles thought aloud. 

_ What would you say? _ Elisa signed. 

“I’d say take better care of your teeth and fuck a lot more,” Giles said. 

Elisa smirked and nudged him playfully. 

Betty and the others onscreen started twirling and dancing to the music. Elisa, struck by inspiration, began tapping her feet along with it to the beat. She tapped her toes together and then looked to her father who began dancing along. Then in perfect synchronicity, they danced a little more before pulling their outside feet up and tapping them together. 

She smiled broadly and leaned into him. 

“You know your name sign gets to be all special with the sign for ‘dance’ because you like to dance and all. All I get is the word ‘dad’. I  _ guess _ that’s alright. I  _ guess  _ I like to be your dad,” Giles remarked, pretending to be disappointed. 

He gave an overly dramatic sigh. She leaned her head down on his shoulder, still smiling. Leave it to her dad to make her forget about the frustrating night at work she had had. 

“Actually you know what? I amend my previous statement. If I were to give my younger self some advice, I would probably say take better care of your teeth, fuck a lot more, and learn how to change a diaper before you turn twenty-five or else you’re going to be very, very behind,” Giles stated. Then he sighed, this time more reflective. “Twenty-five. I found you when I was only twenty-five. And you’re thirty-seven now. I’ve taken care of you for most of my life. That’s so odd to think about. Numbers and years.”

Elisa picked her head up and looked at him. 

_ Do you regret it? _

“Regret what? Finding you?” Giles asked, his brow furrowed. “Why would I ever regret that?”

Elisa shrugged and leaned her head back on his shoulder. 

“The only thing I regret is getting old,” he sighed. “Any maybe not bothering Andrew more about his health. But neither of those things can be changed now so I might as well try to make whatever’s left of life worth it, eh? Otherwise what’s the point of living?”

 

The second night of the new T-4 team and project was just as bad as the first. 

She spent the first hour of the night of trying to ask Dr. Hoffstetler and the other researchers what she could do and either getting strange looks or coffee orders.

If the scientists weren’t ordering her around for coffee, they had her run copies or take notes, if they asked her to do anything. She felt like she wasn’t even a research assistant. She was a secretary, or worse, an  _ intern _ . The nameless quiet errand girl. The nameless quiet errand girl who up until last night, Elisa reflected, was in control of this entire lab.

She hadn’t even gotten the chance to see “the asset” or “the creature” or whatever they called it. 

They seemed to send her out any chance they could. She was either sent on an errand or the researchers were huddled so tightly together around it when it was removed from the water that she couldn’t see in. She tried to peek inside the tank or pool, but it seemed that whenever the scientists were around, the creature didn’t want to get any closer to them than it had to.

She didn’t blame it.

“Woman, you are going to get me in trouble,” Zelda hissed as Elisa snuck into the men’s bathroom Zelda had closed to clean.

_ It’s closed. No one will come in _ , Elisa signed.

“You’d be surprised,” Zelda said darkly.

Zelda started dragging the mop across the bathroom floor as Elisa stood against one of the stall doors, her eyes closed.

“I take it things aren’t any better than yesterday?”

Elisa sighed, which was enough of an answer for Zelda.

“Mmm-hmmm. And have you tried to do something about it?”

Elisa opened her eyes and tapped against the stall door, perhaps a little harder than she intended.

_ Of course I have. But it’s a little difficult. Are you going to come with me so I try again? _

“No. I’ve got my own job to do,” Zelda said. “What about a strongly-worded letter?”

_ Somehow I don’t think that would work. _

“I’m just saying it could be worth a try.”

Elisa seemed to consider this for a moment. 

_ Dear sir, I am the greatest person you are ever going to meet and also I know more than you so you should put me in charge. _

Elisa continued her “letter” that included a few more expletives than was probably necessary but soon had them both gasping for air from laughing so hard.

Because of this, neither heard the door open until the man had already stepped inside.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Zelda said, waving Elisa towards the door. 

“Oh no. That’s alright. Go on. You girls seem to be chatting enjoyably. Girl talk no doubt. Don’t mind me.”

They watched frozen as the man set down his long black cattle prod on the sink and washed his hands before making his way to the urinal. They heard the telltale sound of his pants unzipping followed by a stream of liquid. 

Elisa was no expert on men peeing, and neither was Zelda for that matter, but it seemed very odd for him to be holding his hands on his hips like that.

“Name’s Strickland. Security.”

“I thought Fleming was Security?”

The man chuckled and flushed the urinal. He turned back to them and pulled a box of candy from his pocket. He offered it both to them. They both declined 

For a moment Elisa was sure she was going to be out of job. 

Not only was she in the men’s bathroom not working, but it was exceedingly clear where she was supposed to be. She still had her white lab coat on over her sweater and skirt. Any second now he was going to say something along the lines of “why aren’t you in T-4 doing what you’re supposed to?” if he didn’t go straight to “you’re done at Occam get out”.

But he didn’t seem to notice that at all. In his mind, she was just another janitor. Not worth his time or thought. 

“It was very nice chatting with you both,” he said in an uncomfortably calm tone for a man who had just peed in front of them both.

With that he left. 

Zelda and Elisa exchanged glances, but neither said anything. 

 

Elisa slipped out to T-4 following the exchange in the bathroom. But as no one seemed to have noticed her absence, she returned to Zelda, who was now changing out the trash cans in the hall not far away.

“Short people are mean,” Zelda stated. “I’ve never met a short man who stayed nice all the way through.”

Elisa chuckled silently as she leaned against the wall, half hidden in the shadows of one of the massive concrete pillars just in case anyone came looking for her. 

Just then, gunshots, three of them, rang out from the vicinity of lab T-4.

Zelda and Elisa ran out to the middle of the hallway. They watched as the door to T-4 slid open and Strickland walked out, feet dragging as blood soaked into his shirt. He clutched his left hand to his chest. 

He dropped to his knees as Dr. Hoffstetler ran out. 

“Help! Help! He’s losing blood!” Hoffstetler shouted. 

Military police ran past them to assist. Someone, Elisa couldn’t see who, pushed the emergency button. Lights began flashing. Buzzers sounded. The large metal door to T-4 as well as any other open door began closing automatically. 

Zelda ushered Elisa on and before she could even begin to process what had happened, they were at the Automat cafeteria. 

“It was two shots. Did you hear?”

_ I heard three. _

“Alright three. And that scream. Whatever goes on in this place?”

Elisa shrugged and took a bite out of her sandwich. 

Now that she had no desk in T-4, she had taken to carrying things around with her in her lab coat. The Steno pad and pen she’d used to take notes, her lunch, and newest (and worst) of all: a set of pre-printed index cards given to her by Fleming at the start of her shift tonight with different phrases and responses for her to use with the new team of scientists. 

She planned to burn those the first chance she got. 

There were footsteps behind them.

“Zelda,” Fleming said, his voice muffled by the handkerchief he held to his mouth. “Please come on. Oh and Elisa. Yes, good. You come too.”

“Now Mr. Fleming sir? Any chance we may conclude our dinner?”

“ _ Now _ .”

Zelda grabbed her cart and she and Elisa followed Fleming to T-4. 

“Heavens to Betsy. We’re in a pickle.”

Fleming entered his clearance card and typed his access code. 

Blood had mixed with water and spread far across the floor of the lab.

“Zelda, you have twenty minutes to render this lab immaculate. Elisa you oversee Zelda clean and then begin sterilizing and setting up the equipment for when everyone returns. Twenty minutes.”

Elisa waved a hand to stop Fleming from leaving and then signed something.

“Elisa says that the cleaning… I guess the sterilization probably, it takes hours for the machine to run.”

“I said  _ begin _ sterilization, Elisa.  _ Begin _ it. Get everything inside the machine and start it. Twenty minutes.”

With that, Fleming left, closing the large metal door behind him. 

Elisa turned to look at Zelda. 

_ How do I… oversee you clean? _

“I have no idea but it sure as hell doesn’t include you standing there for twenty minutes while I clean up. You start picking stuff up and then you can help me get this place cleaned up.”

Zelda turned to the sink and began filling a bucket with water. Elisa picked up the long black cattle prod

“I can handle pee. And I can handle poo. But blood… Ugh… Blood just does something to me.”

She handed Elisa bucket full of water.

“Here. Pour this on the ground. It’ll help when I mop it up.”

Elisa took the bucket and threw it across the ground as instructed. The water hit the wall and flooded back, bringing with it two short, pale fingers and a gold ring.

She picked them up and showed Zelda, who immediately ran for help. 

Elisa ran for the sink and wet a paper towel to wrap the fingers up in. But the new team of scientists had already rearranged her lab cabinets, so the best she could do for something to put them in was the empty paper lunch bag tucked into her lab coat. The ring she kept in her pocket for safe keeping.

As she blew air into the bag, she heard a sound from the vertical tank nearby. It sounded almost like a whale. 

She turned.

Through the thick glass of the tank’s outer wall, she could see something alight in the darkness. 

She stepped closer.

A creature, like a man but much larger, approached the glass. It had gills like a fish and a sculpted, muscular body. It had to have stood at least six and a half feet tall.

But as she stepped up to the glass, the creature made another sound, this one more scared, and swam off, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to take a decent look at it.

Fleming and Zelda ran into the room, the former asking about body parts, and Elisa experienced a rush of dark pleasure as she handed the paper bag to Fleming.

 

The rest of the night had been filled with waiting, sterilization, and paperwork. If Elisa wasn’t sitting around waiting on the autoclave to run or helping to reset the lab, she was running papers all around the massive building to get signed or processed.

Of course there was a brief interlude during the daytime hours in which her father showed off a recent piece of art he had completed and was ready to take to Klein and Saunders and the several hours she escaped reality by way of REM sleep.

But the next night continued much as the last had.

They seemed to remember Elisa should be around now, which meant they started actively giving her things to do. There was more running around as well as note taking and coffee runs. She had not gotten a chance to sit down, let alone figure out what the creature in the tank was.

The first chance she got was when the rest of the scientists left for lunch. 

She opted to stay behind, mostly due to the fact that her feet hurt far too much to think about walking all the way to the cafeteria. She’d instead eat in here. Something that was very much against the rules, but she used to do sometimes before Zelda was her friend or on the days that their lunches didn’t sync up or when Zelda was off or sick. Basically, whenever she couldn’t eat lunch with Zelda.

Elisa collapsed on the step of the large pool and began fishing around her pocket for her lunch. Her fingers brushed the inane index cards that she had forgotten to take home and burn. She would have to do that in the morning.

She grabbed the bag and pulled out a hard-boiled egg. She began tapping it on the edge of the step, rotating it in her hand. She closed her eyes, heaving a sigh  as she began to peel the shell off. 

Behind her, chains began to rattle. The sound grew louder as it moved closer to her. In an instant, Elisa recognized what the sound meant and her eyes flew open. 

She stared, frozen in horror, at the red line carefully painted a foot away from the pool. A signal, a warning-  _ do not cross _ ... _ There is danger here _ . 

And here she was on the wrong side of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters keep getting longer and I swear I'm not doing that on purpose. But I knew this is how I wanted the first movie-timeline chapter to end so I had to keep writing until I hit that point.
> 
> A few things...
> 
> 1) I love all of you. Every single person reading this. I love you. 
> 
> 2) Fishboi has appeared! I promised he would but there was so much build up and events in Elisa's life that I wanted to share first before we got here. 
> 
> 3) It was my interpretation of the movie (not the book) that Giles was fired for something related to alcohol. Given that there was an arc in this AU relating to him getting sober, all the way back in 1944, and  _staying_ sober, he did not get fired for alcohol in this case. Instead, he's retired, but not exactly in the way he wanted to be. 
> 
> 4) In an attempt not to spoil anything, I do want to say that I am sooooo pumped to write Elisa's relationship with Fishboi in this piece. I will say that there isn't going to be any smut (though there are  _so many_ other stories on this site to fulfill that for you), there will be romance and friendship and all that, but it's going to be a little different than the movie/book. If you can't tell why now, you'll understand in the next chapter. 
> 
> As always, thank you so, so, so much for reading and I look forward to sharing more with you!


	13. Chapter 13

Panic flooded her mind. 

She was not sure which would be worse, just sitting here with her back to it, or trying to run. 

Carefully, she slowly turned around to face whatever was behind her. 

It was indeed the creature. 

He was pulled up to full height, standing over her. He was even more beautiful and incredible up close. His eyes were golden, their pupils deep like an abyss. Not a dark foreboding one but rather a comfortable one. He seemed to have some kind of power, drawing her in.

She raised her hands defensively. His bright eyes scanned them intensely and fear gripped her heart. 

Would it snap at her? She knew for a fact it had bitten off Strickland’s fingers. She couldn’t afford to lose any fingers. No one really could, she figured, but she couldn’t more than most. 

But he didn’t seem inclined to strike. His eyes would linger on the egg briefly every once in a while, but they seemed to keep scanning, as if she was hiding something. She tentatively held out the egg to him.

He hissed, and she flinched backwards. He bared his teeth, the gills at his neck flapping dangerously. Her feet seemed unable to move, but luckily neither could he. The massive collar at his neck kept him back. 

Elisa refused to break eye contact. 

As his show of aggression faded, his eyes started scanning again. 

Why was he doing that? She held nothing but the egg, her other hand still held up in defensive submission. But then she looked down at the hand holding the egg and saw her pale wrist blooming out of a white sleeve.

The lab coat. 

He thought she was one of the scientists who had been sent to study him. To poke and prod. To take blood samples or hurt him to further their own knowledge. 

He wasn’t scanning for hands for no reason. He was looking for a weapon.

Tears pricked at her eyes. 

She used to be in control of this lab. She thought of the research,  _ her  _ research… it was the kind meant to help things like him. To protect the water and make it safe. To prove that throwing chemicals or polluting the water would hurt creatures like him. 

But instead she had been dragged into this. Figuratively chained to the lab and what happened here as much as he was literally chained here.

Slowly, not breaking eye contact, she shrugged her left arm out of the lab coat. She carefully transferred the egg to the other hand, and took the arm out of that sleeve. Elisa let the lab coat fall to the floor like she was shedding a second skin. 

_ I’m not like them. I promise. I’m not like them _ , she signed. 

Tears started flowing harder. She was now bent down so far that she was practically bowing.

She repeated the signs again as something shifted in his demeanor. 

Her breath caught in her throat as he cocked his head slightly. She recognized the movement. She did the same thing all the time. It was an expression of confusion as well as a question.

Something Elisa couldn’t explain told her that he recognized this behavior. The crying, the bowing. He just couldn’t seem to figure out why  _ she _ was doing it.

Slowly, she moved the egg a centimeter forward. 

He hissed again, but was much faster to return to his normal state.

She tried again, moving forward another inch. This time he didn’t move. 

She slowly crept it forward until she could set it down on the top ledge of the pool. Then she backed away, both hands raised deferentially. 

Once she was sure that he wasn’t about to strike, she made an ‘h’ with both hands and dragged them over top of each other, like she was cracking an egg.

_ Egg _ .  

Perhaps if she had control over her brain or her heart or her rapidly shaking hands, she would have signed an entire thought.

_ “This is an egg” _ or “ _ you can have the egg” _ or “ _ I’m sorry they’ve hurt you and I promise I’m not going to hurt you so here have an egg in return please don’t bite my hands or fingers off because if you do I won’t have any way to talk to people and it’s already difficult enough as it is.” _

But she couldn’t make herself sign anything else so she just stuck with  _ egg _ .

For a moment he just considered her and the egg curiously before snatching it off the ledge and diving underwater. 

Her lungs suddenly remembered how to breathe again. She wanted more than anything to look over the basin’s edge into the murky algae-filled water below, but there was still a very,  _ very  _ strong likelihood that she was going to vomit out of fear, so instead she gathered up what remained of her lunch, picked up her lab coat, and ran off into the hallway.

“Elisa. I’ve been looking for you. I guess should have figured you’d gotten back to work like you should have. Come on. Mr. ‘I-pee-with-my-hand-on-my-hips’ wants to see us both,” Zelda said.

When Elisa asked why, Zelda shrugged and led them both through Occam to the command center where Strickland had set up shop. They took seats in front of him.

“Zelda D. Fuller. How long have you two known each other Zelda?” Strickland asked as he circled the pair of them like a hawk. 

“About fifteen years sir. Since Elisa started back in, uh, ‘47, sir.”

“What’s that ‘D’ for Zelda?”

“Uh… Delilah, sir. On account of the Bible.”

Strickland told the story of Samson and Delilah, clearly with the express purpose of making her feel bad. 

“I hear from Fleming that the two of you are friends,” Strickland said, looking up at the both of them. “That true?”

Zelda looked to Elisa, who continued to stare ahead at Strickland. Zelda recognized the anxiety in her eyes. It only seemed to show up on the rare occasions when people didn’t yet know she couldn’t talk. Usually that was the first thing they mentioned if they did, so the fact Strickland hadn’t brought it up yet probably meant he didn’t know.

“Yes sir. We are… good friends.”

“How about that? The janitor and the scientist. Good friends. I’d say a research scientist could probably do better than make friends with a janitor,” Strickland said, his eyes now on Elisa. “But that’s just me, I guess. To each their own, right?”

Elisa reached out and briefly gripped Zelda’s hand as Strickland looked back down at files open on his desk.  

“And you. Elisa… DuPont. Raised by a single father. Not unlike Delilah here. Is that why you two became such good friends?” Strickland asked rhetorically. “You’re the one who found my fingers.”

Elisa’s face suddenly lit up as she remembered. She fished the ring out of her lab coat pocket and held it up. 

“Ah. Thank you,” Strickland said as he took it from her. “The doctor’s said that you were pretty smart to wrap it up in the paper towel like you did but that there were several better options for transporting them then a brown paper lunch sack. They don’t know if they’ll take. There was mustard on them.”

“It’s all she could find, sir,” Zelda said. “I answer mostly on account of she can’t talk.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as Strickland looked between Zelda and Elisa. 

“She can’t? Is she deaf?”

“Mute, sir,” Zelda replied as Elisa signed an answer. “She says she can hear you.”

Strickland sat forward to observe her better. There was something in his eyes. Something… hungry. As his eyes fell to her neck, she cursed herself for not wearing the neckerchief she was going to wear this morning. 

“Those scars on your neck. That’s what did it. Cut your voice box?”

Elisa signed again.

“She says… there was a problem when she was born. They had to open up her airway. It damaged the nerves,” Zelda interpreted. 

She knew this was a lie. Elisa had told her the truth years prior about being found in the river as an infant with cuts on her neck. But saying that would have revealed her adoption, which was still largely a secret. Though she was well over the age of eighteen now and therefore it didn’t matter much, she feared her father would get in trouble retroactively. Only three people in the world knew that fact, and this was definitely not a man who should be fourth.

“Huh. Well. Here’s the thing. This is more for you Delilah, but Elisa you could probably get something from it too since you working there. The thing in that lab is an affront. Do you know what an affront is, Zelda?”

“Something offensive, sir?”

“That’s right. And I should know. I dragged that… filthy thing out of the river muck in South America. And along the way we didn’t get to like each other much.”

Elisa bristled. 

Well, no shit. She had just proven that you didn’t get your fingers bitten off if you approached the creature carefully and respectfully. Sure, that had been her number one fear the entire time, but only because she knew it could happen if the encounter went wrong.

“Now you may think that thing looks human,” Strickland continued. “Walks on two legs. But we’re made in the Lord’s image. You don’t think that’s what the Lord looks like do you?”

“I wouldn’t know, sir. What the Lord looks like,” Zelda replied. 

“A human, Zelda. He looks like a human,” Strickland said, popping a few pills in his mouth. “Like me... Or even like you... Maybe a little more like me.”

Before the conversation could continue, the red phone rang and they were ushered on. 

They kept walking, hoping to get as far away from the office as they could. Eventually they reached a lone hallway in the middle of the complex. 

_ I’m sorry he said that stuff _ , Elisa signed right before they parted ways.

“It could have been much worse.”

Elisa made a face. 

_ Just because it could have been worse doesn’t mean it should happen. _

“True. Though around here sometimes you just have to take what you can get. I’m sure you understand that.”

Elisa grimaced and fished the cards out of her pocket. Yet another night had past and they had yet to be destroyed. Too much had been distracting her. 

Zelda shuffled through them, her eyebrows raised. 

“These sure are polite,” she said as she handed them back to Elisa, who tore them in half and dropped them in the wastebasket on Zelda’s cart. “I think it had to be about two and a half years before I ever learned the sign for ‘please’”.

Elisa scoffed. 

_ No, no, no. I say please all the time. That was one of the first ones you learned. Way, way back. _

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing you, hun,” Zelda chuckled. “Anyways. We better go get back to work. You go on to your lab and I’ll get going to mine. See if I can finally figure out how all these men get those pee freckles all over the bathroom ceiling.

_ Let me know if you figure it out. I’ll publish a paper. _

“Only if you give me credit for the discovery,” Zelda said, pretending to wag a finger. Elisa gave a solemn nod. 

 

The only discoveries Elisa made that night were that 1) the researchers  _ definitely _ noticed if there was one sugar in their coffee and not two and 2) she wanted nothing else than to be with the creature.

But this was incredibly difficult.

Time alone in the lab was now very hard to come by. The only time people left was for their lunch break, but more often than not that meant Elisa had a lot of cleaning up to do. Tools had to be sterilized. Tests had to be prepared.

Worse, Elisa feared the creature would never truly trust her.

And why would he? 

He had been out of the water long enough while they ran tests on him to see her, she was sure. Though she was often in the back taking notes or being barked at for errands, she was still  _ there _ . Watching and not helping him. And she was sure it did not matter how many eggs she could bring him, he would never forget that.

The next moment she got alone in the lab was after one of these tests. 

Bloody surgical equipment was everywhere. Dr. Hoffstetler had shrugged off his coat and tossed it in the bin. Elisa was only slightly relieved that he appeared to be the only one other than her that recognized most of the things the researchers were doing was more torture than science. But he was still in charge and hadn’t said a word.

When Elisa had been alone in the lab every night, she brought in her record player. Like many things Elisa did during that time, it was definitely not allowed, but who cared?  _ She  _ had been in charge. And she definitely wasn’t going to get herself in trouble. 

But she couldn’t do that now. Instead, she fished in her purse (safely stowed away from the scientists behind the huge hulking computers) for a small radio. As she tuned it, praying that it could pick up a signal this far below ground, she almost laughed at herself. Why the hell had she ever wished this lab to be more busy and exciting?

Weak warbling notes of Glenn Miller spluttered out of the radio. She adjusted the antenna and the sound became clearer.

Checking that the coast was clear, she carefully set the radio and an egg on the basin’s ledge before backing off.

It was amazing how quietly the creature could move through the water. Almost soundlessly, save for the chains that bound him. 

He peeked just his eyes above the water, looking first to the radio and then to her. She gave him a little wave and a weak smile and almost immediately a hand flew to her mouth.  

Some species considered bearing your teeth a sign of aggression. She wasn’t trying to be aggressive at all. There were a dozen men trying to do that already. 

Carefully, his eyes on her, she knelt down in front of the pool. When he didn’t move, she raised herself on to the first step. Still no reaction. Her heart beating so hard she couldn’t hear the music, she raised herself up another step. She was almost level with him.

She waited for a growl, a hiss. When none came, she drew a deep breath and raised herself up one more step. She was now eye to eye with him. 

He pulled his head completely above the water and Elisa froze, waiting for his attack. But none came. 

Instead, he seemed to appraise her for a moment before turning his attention to the radio. She couldn’t help but smile as he circled around it, as if trying to figure out how where the sound was coming from. 

He looked at her again and made eye contact and to her surprise, he let out a curious brawp. Like he was asking “what is it?”

She raised her hands to sign slowly, worried he react negatively. But he seemed to remember that she had done something with her hands last time, as when he realized she was raising them, he peered over the ledge curiously. Almost  _ knowingly _ . Like he knew whatever her hands were about to do would explain it to him.

Her heart clenched, but this time not out of fear. 

With the exception of Zelda and her father, no one looked to her for answers. Not  _ really  _ at least _.  _ Sure, they’d ask her a question, but they didn’t look to her for the response. Only to whoever was interpreting for her. 

But not even Zelda or her father were that… _ expectant _ .

Because that’s what the creature was, right? He was  _ expectant _ . He knew that her signs had meaning and he needed some way to what things were. He couldn’t speak anymore than she could. And she was sure that the language spoken here meant little to him. 

He needed a way to connect with the world like she did. And here she was, a ready and willing teacher.

_ Music _ , she signed. 

He let out another brawp, like he was saying thank you. When he did, his chin came up and she imagined him nodding at her like the boys in college had to other girls. But whereas their nods had always come off a little possessive, his was friendlier.

A moment of scientific curiosity overcame her. 

If he could figure out she was saying something to him, could he say it back? 

He could communicate, that much was clear. But could he communicate like  _ she _ did? Did he really find meaning in the signs or was he just making sounds she attributed to different feelings?

Slowly, she reached up and clicked the radio off. 

He looked at her, possibly offended, and let out another sound. The confusion and little bit of hurt in the sound made her want to immediately turn it back on. But instead she raised her eyebrows. This time  _ she _ was expectant. 

Further signing would be a confounding factor in her little experiment, so instead she imagined she could project her thoughts directly into his mind-  _ tell me what it is… tell me what it means… show me that you understand... _

Slowly, he swam up to the ledge and leaned on it. He raised one webbed hand out of the water and brushed it back and forth across the other arm just like she had. 

_ Music _ . 

Elisa beamed, not caring if she showed her teeth or not. 

She turned the radio back on. He clicked happily and swam around it, occasionally looking up as if trying to watch the music float away into the air. 

Elisa watched him excitedly. 

She would have been content to keep watching, just admiring him, when her stomach growled and she remembered her lunch. 

She pulled out her sandwich and unwrapped it. He considered her as she took a bite, to which she pointed to the egg on the ledge. Just as she was ready to sign “egg” again, to reinforce what she had taught him yesterday, he looked right at her as he lifted his hands and signed it himself. 

_ Egg. _

In that moment, her heart burst. 

 

Every night following, every moment alone in the lab Elisa had, was spent with the creature. 

Every time, she would play the radio and introduce some new object or concept to him. All at his pace, all by his interest. The first few nights, she scribbled down her notes after the other researchers returned and went back to work. 

What they had practiced today, how many times it took until he got it. What they reviewed. Nobody checked her Steno pad or collected her notes anyways, so she was free to write to her heart’s content.

But it didn’t take long before the notes fell to the wayside forgotten.

Perhaps it was her own imagination projecting her excitement onto him, but the longer this occurred, he seemed happy to see her. 

_ Yes. No. Eat. Fish. _

One night a week or so into their lessons, he allowed her to dip her hand in the pool to teach him the sign for “water”. A few nights later, as she signed it again in review, she could have sworn she felt his fingers brush hers as they dipped below the surface.

One night she taught him to fingerspell her name. 

_ E-L-I-S-A _

He tried as hard as he could, but his fingers lacked the fine motor skill required to form the shapes. So instead she taught him her seldom-used name sign. The letter ‘e’ waved back and forth over her flat palm to signify ‘dance’.

That he liked a lot better. Soon it became his greeting. 

_ Elisa. Elisa. Elisa. _

She said a silent prayer of thanks each and every time he did it to Peter the therapist for teaching her about name signs.

She hated the days they kept him in the tank. 

Elisa was convinced he couldn’t hear anything inside. And though their communication had been created for instances in which one or both parties could not hear, they both could and if he couldn’t hear within the tank, then he couldn’t hear the music. 

_ Music _ , he signed nonetheless. 

Her heart hurt. He wanted her to turn on the radio and dance around like she so enjoyed, even if he couldn’t hear it, because it made  _ her _ happy. And if she was happy, he was happy.

What had she done in her life to deserve that kind of friendship?

It certainly wasn’t  _ working _ . That was for sure. 

When she was pulled into different lab activities, like forcing him into an X-Ray machine, all Elisa could do was try and stroke his arm, to comfort him through her tears.

When she was forced to clean up bloody tools and gauze after their “tests”, every one felt like a scalpel inserted into her own chest. 

She had a hand in his continued torture. He had every right to hiss at her, to strike her, to  _ hate  _ her.

But he didn’t. 

He was excited to see her. He was eager to learn. He enjoyed her company. 

What had she done to deserve his friendship? No. What had she done to deserve his  _ forgiveness _ ?

Because that’s what this was. Forgiveness. 

The other researchers, who had written him off as an animal, would have claimed he didn’t know what was happening to him and therefore wouldn’t have connected her to it. They would have said that her continued teachings and offerings of food were just classical condition. Training. Like he was a dog.

But Elisa knew better.

He hadn’t just mimicked her signs. He  _ learned _ them. He had put together that this was a language and that the signs had meaning. Though his vocabulary was still limited, Elisa knew he wished to express his thoughts more fully. He was eager to learn so he could communicate with her, just as much as she wanted to communicate with him.

He was intelligent. Far more intelligent than those researchers combined, Elisa was sure. He knew damn well what was happening. He knew she was part of it and yet he still let her get close to him. He knew she helped those who hurt him and he still forgave her.

There were whispers amongst the researchers that he had been worshipped like a God in the Amazon. She too had scoffed when it had been brought up, decrying those stories as false.

But as she looked into his eyes through the glass of the tank, she saw it. The dark, comforting black of his eyes held the mystery of life within them. They saw her sins and they forgave them. They saw every part of her, just as she was.

She had tried to repress the thoughts that this was more than friendship. That she felt more connected to him that any man or woman she had ever met. 

_ Elisa. Elisa. Elisa _ .

She smiled at her name sign. Biting her lip she looked up at him, into those knowing eyes. 

She raised a hand to the tank’s window. He did too. She imagined she could feel the cool wetness of his fingers through the glass. 

Underwater, his sounds sounded a little like those of a whale. Elisa thought they were beautiful. Like songs. The most beautiful songs she’d ever heard.

She pressed closer to the glass, smiling. His eyes twinkled, his songs growing louder,  _ happier.  _ He twirled around, imagining himself dancing like she did, before pressing his own face closer to the glass. 

Lost in each other’s eyes, wishing they could be closer, far, far away from this place, neither noticed their visitor. 

One’s Principal Investigator and one’s Principal Torturer. 

His mouth hung open, the tray of food in his hand forgotten.

Hoffstetler had long determined that this creature was far more intelligent than any one of them could have thought, but not even he was prepared for a discovery such as this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy. It didn’t take me a week to update this time. 
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> Anyways, this is a shorter chapter! I did it! It’ll mean a couple more chapters than I planned probably, but we’re moving along and you got some nice fishy romance in this chapter. 
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> When I said in the last notes that I was excited to write this and if you couldn’t tell what would be different and you’d see why in the next chapter, here you are.    
> I really liked the idea of (as @Tyellas called it) SCIENCE ELISA, I knew that it would greatly change her relationship with Fishboi. There could be issues of trust as well as a lot of internal turmoil for Elisa. 
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> Also, I took count of all my works (here and on FF) and I have to retract my previous statement that I never write AUs because I’ve written a total of 30 pieces between the two sites and twelve of those thirty are AUs of some kind so… yeah. I write AUs. Rather a lot. My roommate made me admit that and said if I didn’t, she would anonymously call me out via comment.
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> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Tune in in (hopefully) a few days for the next one!


	14. Chapter 14

Dimitri Mosenkov sat on the sofa of his decrepit apartment, downing shot after shot of the best Polish vodka he could afford. 

Of course, Russian vodka would have been preferable. But Dimitri feared that drinking it would remind him too much of home. It would make him nostalgic as well as drunk, and that was a crossroads where avoidable accidents happened. 

He knew. 

He  _ knew _ that the Devonian was capable of teaching then more than just the secrets of it’s biology. He knew it was intelligent and worth so much more than whatever they could learn from it to get a man into space. 

And yet he had gotten distracted by the mysteries of it. Distracted by the scientific specimen in front of him, forgetting that it was, in fact, a living being. 

The research assistant, Elisa her name was, didn’t forget. She had approached it, gained its trust, had begun teaching it her language. And it had been  _ learning _ it. Learning it and communicating with her. 

Dimitri kept replaying the exchange in this head. He had watched it longer than he probably should have. 

When he had first approached, returning early from lunch to feed the creature, he had seen Elisa dancing and spinning about. He had had half a mind to yell at her, to remind her that this was her workplace. It was neither the time nor the place to dance around. 

But then he saw the Devonian upright in the tank. It was swirling and spinning too. And Dimitri realized, it was  _ dancing.  _ They were dancing  _ together _ .

Suddenly the moment had felt intimate. Like he was intruding on something private and beautiful.

All of the sign language the Devonian had learned was of great interest to Dimitri, but there were two signs in particular, the ones he had seen, that were the most fascinating. 

The first was one the assistant did fairly often. A hand, in the shape of a ‘y’, held close to the head. The middle three fingers moved back and forth. Dimitri has figure out it was the word for ‘why?’, after spying on more than one conversation between the assistant and her friend, the black janitor. 

Dimitri could only assume the Devonian’s question had been ‘why did you stop?’, as Elisa, no doubt dizzy from several spins in a row, had ceased her dancing a moment before.

The creature was asking questions. It understood concepts. It  _ wanted _ to communicate with them, and it would. If they were nice to it. If they took the time to engage it as an equal, not a test subject.

The second sign Dimitri had yet to figure out. The Devonian had seemed very happy to do it, and had repeated it over and over again. And it made Elisa light up like a Christmas tree. He figured had he stood closer, he might have he seen tears in her eyes.

What had the Devonian been saying? What had she taught him?

A code? Dimitri almost laughed. An adulthood spent as a Russian sleeper agent made him naturally suspicious to those he could not understand.

Dimitri tried to come back to reality from his imagination by focusing on the coffee table in front of him. The vodka had begun to set in, making it hard to force his eyes to do his bidding. 

They came to focus on the top book on a stack sitting in front of him. It was Dale Carnegie’s self-help guide  _ How to Win Friends and Influence People _ . Suddenly, the answer was there in front of him, as if waiting for him to realize it.

“ _ Remember that a person’s name is to that person the sweetest and most important sound in any language _ .”

Her name. She had taught the creature her name. Her  _ real  _ name. The way she said it. Though there were no sounds involved, it was clear how much this had meant to her.

Dimitri felt suddenly connected to the assistant. 

Neither of them were called their true names by others. The names they equated to themselves. Elisa because she could not speak but could hear, so people rarely signed to her, and Dimitri because he had to hide his true identity or face dire consequences. 

And they were similar too, he thought, as they both had to work with others who spoke to a language that was not their first. They both understood it, yes, but it was not one they would claim as their own.

A wave of guilt and shame washed over Dimitri, which he attempted to drown with another shot of vodka. 

The Devonian was a better man than he. It had started learning her language, had learned her name as she said it. And what had he done? Ordered her around for coffee.

When the vodka didn’t work, Dimitri turned to coffee, partly in an effort to sober himself. 

He would have to meet with Mihalkov soon and he had to gather his things and hail a cab out to the industrial park first just so he could sit there for an hour, recite the password, and then go to the same shitty restaurant they always met in. Surely, he thought, he could go straight there and cut out the cab fare. 

“Bob! How are you?” Mihalkov greeted in Russian as soon as the husky driver had delivered him to the (same shitty) restaurant following their windy password recital at the meeting place.

“Dimitri, comrade,” Dimitri corrected, also in Russian. “Not Bob.”

“What have you got for us?” Mihalkov asked, taking a seat at a small table. 

The driver was already seated and stuffing his face. Dimitri wasn’t sure he could remember one of these meetings where the man had been present and  _ wasn’t _ eating.

“Anatomical notes,” Dimitri answered, pulling the notebook from his pocket and handing it to Mihalkov. “And a plan of the laboratory where it is being studied. Everything we need for the extraction.”

“I will pass it up to the directorate.”

“We must do it as soon as possible.”

Dimitri inhaled deeply as the thought struck him. He leaned down closer to Mihalkov, so close he could smell cologne and alcohol.

“Mihalkov, I think this creature might be able to communicate-”

“Communicate?” the man asked, taken aback. 

Dimitri paused as a chef came to set down something on the table.

“I have reason to believe it is intelligent.”

He thought of the creature, signing to his assistant, spinning to the music. As he explained to Mihalkov that there might be more to learn from it, he found himself holding back. 

_ Just be simple, _ he told himself.  _ Speak plainly. Don’t get too excited. There is still yet time to learn _ .

Mihalkov didn’t look convinced but promised he would pass that information up to. 

Dimitri nodded, a small rush of trepidation and excitement coming over him. Perhaps they could extract it, return it to the USSR. This was to be his last mission, of that he was quite sure. Perhaps they could extract it, take it back to Minsk, and let him study it there, but  _ properly. _

Perhaps he could bring the assistant too. She might be the only one who would be willing to help, and the Devonian trusted her. She wouldn’t have a job after this either. Yet another similarity they shared.

The waiter returned, this time bringing two steaming plates. Mihalkov turned his attention to the food and smiled.

“Now… Eat, Dimitri,” eh instructed. “The Americans… they call this, uh, ‘Surf’...”

“‘And turf’,” the driver finished.

“‘Surf and turf’,” Mihalkov repeated. “The lobsters are boiled right here. They squeak a little, but they are so soft and sweet.”

The way Mihalkov was looking at him, Dimitri wondered if they were thinking the same thing. That he, Dimitri, was a lobster to be boiled. If this went wrong. If he messed up. 

The thought of a screaming lobster sickened him. And as Mihalkov swallowed, not breaking eye contact, Dimitri’s thoughts then shifted to imagine the Devonian being boiled. 

And he knew, for the rest of his life, he would never be able to eat fish ever again.

 

Smoking did not agree with Elisa. 

She had first tried it when she was about sixteen. Alex had wanted to try it and had convinced her that it was okay. People in the movies did it all the time, and didn’t she, Elisa, want to be like all those stars in the movies? 

And Elisa had seen the ads. Doctors and lawyers and Hollywood starlets smoked. Even President Franklin D. Roosevelt had his signature cigarette holder between his teeth in several photos in the newspaper. 

But one puff of a cigarette she had stolen from Andrew’s stash and had taken down to the alley to try with Alex had made her cough up so much blood her fathers had rushed her to the hospital fearing late-stage tuberculosis. 

She did not like to smoke, and felt it was probably better for her not too. But in her avoidance of the terrible pain and misery that T-4 held, she found herself down at the loading dock with Zelda. 

But as Duane offered her and Zelda a cigarette, Elisa looked up to see the security camera. She pointed concerned, unconsciously backing away and out of the line of sight. She had gotten to the point where she could have cared less about her job, but she didn’t want to lost it for the creature’s sake. 

“Don’t worry about that camera,” Duane said, waving her concerned look away. “We push ‘em up at break time. This here is a blind spot.”

Elisa was still thinking of this long after she took one puff of the cigarette, promptly feigned having to go back in (giving her an excuse to snuff it out), and made her way back towards the lab.

She was barely inside for longer than a minute before Dr. Hoffstetler quickly ushered her and all the other research staff out of T-4. 

He led them down to a floor of Occam Elisa had never been too. She and the rest of them followed curiously to a dark room that Hoffstetler guided them in to. There was a very brief moment where Elisa was convinced they were all going to be lined up and shot (for crimes against the creature or the United States or simply because they knew too much), when he flipped on the light switch.

It was a lecture hall, almost as big as the ones Elisa had sat in during her time in college. 

“If you’ll please get out your notes,” Hoffstetler instructed, his tone not unlike her college lecturers. “We have much to go over.”

He picked up chalk from where it sat waiting on its ledge and began drawing detailed anatomical diagrams of the creature on the blackboard. 

Apparently, a high ranking official named General Hoyt was on his way to the lab to see and learn about “the Asset”. And though they were set up classroom-style, Dr. Hoffstetler did intend it to be a discussion. The researchers were encouraged to share any anecdotes, data, narratives, etc. Any evidence that may prove beneficial to the project and to Hoyt. 

Unable to participate in the discussion and frankly unwilling to, Elisa instead sighed and let her mind wander.

She imagined it was her up there, teaching a class of interested men (and women) about what she had learned from the creature, as well as what she had taught it. That daydream then shifted to her in front of a panel of judges, defending her dissertation at a grand and beautiful university. They could all understand every sign she made, and they watched her, mouths agape, as she explained her amazing discovery.

Would category would a PhD with that as it’s focus fall into? Biology? Sociology? Linguistics? 

It was about words and language, after all. And much, much  _ more  _ than that. But, as she had considered the day before, it  _ started  _ with words. 

Unable to sleep as she had not been able to have time alone him in days and missed him terribly, she found herself returning to the forgotten Steno pad in her purse. She smiled to herself as she lengthened the list of words he had learned, and then began labeling them. Words he picked up quickly, words that he found hard, words that he didn’t like, words that he loved. 

There was only  _ one _ word with that particular label. And thinking about it made her feel… excited. Giddy. Ways she had never felt before. Ways she told herself she shouldn’t feel but felt  _ so good _ that she didn’t want to stop.

But her daydream quickly turned sour when she tried to imagine where he would be in that situation. In a tank next to her? In a pool pushed around on wheels? It didn’t matter. 

Wherever he was in that situation was not someplace he should be. It was not the bay or the river or the sea. It was not somewhere that he could be free.

Elisa looked at her watch. 

They were expecting the visit to start promptly at four am. It was three thirty now. If she ducked out unseen, perhaps she could get time alone in the lab with him while everyone else was away preparing. 

This thought led her up and out of the cavernous lecture hall, ignored by the scientists deep in conversation. She took the elevator back up to the right floor and looked around closely, backing in as the door slid open to make sure no one was watching. 

A smile already creeping onto her face just at the thought of seeing him again, she turned and gasped in horror.

The creature was not in the tank nor was he in the pool.

He was out of the water, shackled in chains to a plinth in from of the large basin. 

She ran to him, but hesitated before she knelt in front of him. He had to see it was her. Though she no longer feared that he would attack her, his blood was all over the floor. Somebody had been hurting him right before she had stepped inside and he might attack not out of anger but out of self-defense.

She lowered herself in front of him, a foot away, and made eye contact. There was a definite recognition of her, but no happy greetings were to be had.

She crawled closer and tentatively traced a wound on his chest, unable to breathe as her hand pulled away fresh blood.

Frantically, she started searching through her pockets for her keys, but they were nowhere to be found. They had been taken from her, stripped from her along with any power she ever imagined she held. 

Keys or not, she tried to tug at the chains. Tears pricked her eyes as she heard his pained moans and wheezes. She touched him again, but he flinched. The tears fell freely after that.

Questions started flying through her head as she stood.

How long had he been out of the water? What was the purpose of this? And who had been doing it?

Elisa turned and in a moment the last questions was answered. 

There in front of her, laid across the arms of a chair, was a long black cattle prod.

The buzzer on the door went off just as she turned back to her creature. 

She wasn’t supposed to be in here yet. It was too early and she’d get in trouble. Panic overtook her and she ran off behind the computer on the far side of the room. Her chest heaved as she heard him whine weakly after her. 

It wasn’t the beautiful songs he made in the water, nor the curious chirps he made out of it. It was pained and desperate and it only could mean one thing:  _ please don’t leave me. _

“Miss me?” Strickland asked, his tone jovial. “Just took a candy break.”

He grabbed the cattle prod off the chair and turned quickly as if he was going to strike. The creature flinched hard. 

“This? This what scares you? Figured you should be used to it by now.”

Elisa peeked from behind the computer just in time to see Strickland plunge the cattle prod into the creatures chest. She heard the air crackle with electricity and pulled her head back at the sound of his pained screams. The sound of the electricity ceased, leaving only the sound of the creatures moans.

“There you are again making that god-awful sound. Is that you crying? That what it is? Are you hurting? Or maybe you’re angry?”

Elisa turned to catch another glimpse as Strickland raised the cattle prod like a baton and threatened to bring it down over the creature’s head. 

Strickland leaned down close to the creature and stuck out his injured hand. 

“Or maybe you want to take another bite. Go on.”

There was the sound of the creature’s jaw snapping and then another crackle of electricity, followed by more pained moans.

“I can’t tell… are you begging? Cause to me it’s just the worst fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” Strickland said. 

Strickland stepped forwards to make another threat when something round rolled out from next to the plinth.

Elisa turned to sneak another glance. Terror washed over her. 

He was holding a brown hard-boiled egg. The same egg that had been in her pocket just a moment ago.

Before it seemed Strickland came to any conclusions regarding the egg, the buzzer sounded again. Strickland turned to the door, waiting as the door slid open.

“General Hoyt! Welcome, sir,” he said  happily he stepped forward and offered the general a hand

As soon as the general was in, the researchers as well as several military police followed in behind him. Elisa rushed out from behind the computers and took a spot in the back, brushing out her lab coat and trying to make it seem like she too had just entered the lab with everyone else. 

“Good God,” Hoyt said, stopping in front of the plinth. “Is that it? Helluva lot bigger than I thought.”

“And ugly as sin. The natives in the Amazon worshipped it like a God,” Strickland said, poking the creature in the head with the cattle prod.

Hoyt turned and took a seat so he could sit in front of the creature. Fleming handed him a manila folder. 

“Doesn’t look like much of a God now, does it?”

“Well, they were primitive, sir,” Strickland replied, sitting down in the chair next to Hoyt. “Tossed offerings into the water. Flowers, fruits, crap like that. Then they tried to fight off the oil rigs with bows and arrows. That didn’t end too well.”

Dimitri knelt down in front of the creature and gently touched the blood on the floor. It was runny, mixed with the water that had dripped from the creature. 

“It’s bleeding,” he stated, working to keep his voice steady as he looked up at Strickland. “What happened?”

“It’s an animal Hoffstetler,” Strickland said casually. “Just keeping it tame.”

“Oxygen osmosis and dioxide exchange,” Hoyt read from his file. He closed it and sat forward. “What have we got here, son?”

Dimitri wiped the blood from his fingers and stood to explain. He made sure when he said “it’ll give us an edge over the Soviets” that he added a little bite to the word. It would reinforce that he was on  _ their  _ side, when it reality saying the word gave him the slightest comfort. 

“How long can it breathe outside water?” Hoyt asked. 

Before Dimitri could open his mouth the answer, Strickland cut him off. 

“The reality is sir that we don’t know jack shit about this thing.”

Hoyt stood from his chair and leaned over to observe the creature as he launched into something about the Soviets and space. 

Dimitri would have tuned it out anyway, but something caught his attention from out of the corner of his eye.

He turned his attention to Elisa. 

She was in the back, out of the attention of the officials. But her hand was moving. A thumbs up fist rotated over her chest. 

He followed her line of sight not to any of the researchers or military men, all of whom were distracted by the creature, but to the creature himself.

Dimitri did not know sign language, but he could read her lips as they mouthed the words. 

_ I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry _ .

Dimitri looked back to the creature, who was on the verge of passing out. He had begun to cough up blood, his wheezing growing worse with every passing second. 

Then he looked back to her. 

It seemed that all this time, Dimitri believed she had gotten close to the creature, that she had earned his trust because she largely had not been around. He himself had ordered her to leave on  errands or simply didn’t involve her in the procedures for reasons that now seemed irrelevant. 

He had believed that the Devonian did not blame her for the horrors he experienced here because she wasn’t involved. But that wasn’t true. It trusted her because she  _ was _ . It trusted her because she felt remorse and had tried to connect with it. 

She was not absolved of blame, but rather took it upon herself and worked to move forward. She had attempted to treat it better than the rest of them. She had tried to reestablish what was lost.

The moans of the creature jerked him from his thoughts. 

“Sir, we have to get it back in the water,” he heard himself say. 

“See these scientists, their like artists sir. They fall in love with their playthings,” Strickland joked as he stepped forward towards the creature. “You see sir, this creature has a thick jointed cartilage that separates the primary and secondary breathing mechanism. Am I explaining this right Bob? You see it makes the X-rays inconclusive. So I think if we want to get an edge on the Soviets we’ve got to vivisect this thing. Cut it open-”

“That would defeat the purpose,” Dimitri said sternly. He looked to Hoyt. “Please, sir. He’s passed out.”

Hoyt considered for a moment, and then nodded, allowing Dimitri to bark orders to get it back in the tank. As he turned back to conversation, he saw Elisa run forward out of the side of his eye to help get him back in the water. 

“General Hoyt,” Dimitri said firmly, looking up the general as he prepared to depart the lab. “You cannot under any circumstances kill this creature.”

As Hoyt asked him to count how many stars were on his uniform, Dimitri couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of power. Perhaps it was hatred, perhaps it was fear. But as he followed Hoyt out to the golf cart, challenged to argue his case, he felt ready.

 

Elisa had felt gratitude at her muteness several times during the event in T-4, all because her inability to make vocal sound had prevented her reactions being noticed by anyone. 

Though she could feel the how hard her chest heaved, how huge her sobs felt, there was no outward sound or cry to alert anyone else. Just the silent tears streaming down her face. This was good, she thought, because then she could cry in peace and not get asked further questions.

She was grateful that she could sign to the creature as he lay there, close to death, because if he could see her at least he knew how she felt. And when she heard Strickland use the word “vivisect”, she felt herself try to yell “no” so hard she heard the air leave her mouth. 

No one had noticed any of this. And she was grateful for it. 

As Hoffstetler followed General Hoyt out into the hall, she struggled to leave her position at the creature’s side. Ultimately, she ran after them, if only for a moment.

But it was at that moment that her gratitude at not being noticed ended. 

Hoffstetler was off to argue his case and she couldn’t help him. 

After checking that the creature was safely back in the tank and had not died from his prolonged exposure to air, she ran after the men. All the way to the elevator, up to the lobby, up half of the stairwell to Strickland’s office. 

Because so many people throughout her life had assumed she could, Elisa had long ago taught herself how to read lips. As she could hear very well and therefore seldom had a use for it, it remained mostly a tool she used to spy on conversations she wasn’t a part of. 

Never had she been so thankful for being nosy.

“We cannot kill it,” she saw Hoffstetler say, his hands raised as he emphasized his point.

Strickland was half hidden by Hoyt, but she did manage to catch something about “Russian infiltration”. Hoyt’s back was to her, so she couldn’t see anything he said, but she could tell by his body language that he was not open to Hoffstetler’s argument.

Hoyt must have said something bad because Hoffstetler’s face turned to one of shock and sadness. Hoyt clapped him on the shoulder and turned. 

The door opened above her, jarring her back to the present.

She hurried down the stairs and swung around the bottom of the staircase just out of sight just in time to hear Hoyt’s final words on the subject. 

“Crack the damn thing open and then close up shop here. And then give yourself a good pat on the back Strickland. You’ve done it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two, count 'em, TWO updates this week. I'm on a roll. Though it is much easier to write when I'm now following the timeline of the book/movie and can refer back to it to tell me what happens next... 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter focused on everyone's favorite Soviet boy. I should point out (since I didn't write it in) that Dimitri calls Fishboi "the Devonian" in novel because he feels it's from the Devonion period of evolution. Or something like that. But just so you know in case you haven't yet had the chance to read the book.
> 
> Also, thank you so, so, so much for your comments and kudos. I know I've said that like every single chapter, but I swear I check my personal email several times a day (even during work lol) because I love to see what you guys have to say. I'm so happy so many of you are so invovled and love it so much. I love writing it, so I think it's a win for everyone.  
> 
> As well, I know I've thanked you all for sticking with it because of the length, but like... for real. This is an incredibly long story and the fact that you guys continue to read it and  _want_ to read it is amazing. I reread the entire thing the other day and it literally took all day to get through. Every break, all of lunch. It's a  _looooong_ story. Consider it my gift to the TSOW fandom- another novel. Though certainly nowhere near as good as the real one:P
> 
> We're nearing the home stretch! I won't say how many chapters are left because 1) I want to keep you guessing and 2) I myself am not quite sure yet. But I have such exciting things in store. Thank you so much as always and stay tuned!


	15. Chapter 15

“Get him out?” Giles said as he adjusted the scarf around his neck. “What are you talking about? Absolutely not.”

_ Why not? _

“Because it’s breaking the law, that’s why. Probably breaking the law just talking about it.”

Giles crossed the room to start gathering up his most recent artwork into a case. It was a family surrounding a bright  _ green  _ thing of gelatin. There was something not quite right about the happiness in their eyes. Like if you looked into them for too long, they might steal your soul.

But still he listed it amongst some of his best work. 

Elisa had returned home less than an hour before and had immediately started spinning yarns about some creature that was locked up in the Occam lab she worked in. It felt like the longer she signed, the less and less that he wanted to watch.

It reminded him of the times during her childhood where her imagination had gotten the best of her to the point where nothing he or Andrew said could get her back. Things like the clock in the plaza being slow or when she thought she saw Bigfoot in Patterson Park or the fear that the beginning of her menstrual cycle meant her untimely death. Things that were fun to joke about at first but her insistance upon quickly grew tiring.

_ He’s alone _ , she signed, nodding seriously.  _ All alone. _

“So does this mean that when we go to a Chinese restaurant, you want to save every fish in the tank?” he chuckled. She did not even crack a smile. “So what if he’s alone. We’re all alone.”

Elisa moved quickly to his side, nearly knocking over his easel in her eagerness for him to see her hands.

“The loneliest thing you’ve ever seen?” Giles said, turning towards her. “You just said it. You called it a thing! It’s a thing! It’s a freak.”

_ Say what I sign.  _

“I can understand you.”

Giles turned for the door, just in time to see Elisa sign “you’re not hearing me”.

As Giles made to move forward, Elisa ran around him until she was in front of him.

_ Repeat repeat repeat. _

“Okay, okay. Calm down,” Giles said with a sigh. “I’ll repeat it back to you.”

Elisa nodded and then placed her hands to her temples for a moment, finding her thoughts. 

She began to sign.

“I move my mouth, like him. I make no sound, like him. What does that make me?” Giles repeated. 

Elisa raised her eyebrows, challenging him. Was she a freak too?

She continued.

“All that I am… All that I have ever been… Has led me here. To him,” Giles said. “See you said ‘him’. It’s a ‘him’ now.”

Giles raised his wrist to look at his watch, but it was swatted away. Elisa grabbed him by the coat, her hand moving angrily to her face to sign “look at me”.

“Okay okay. I’m looking, I’m looking,” Giles snapped as she released him. “You… hit me.”

Elisa took another deep breath. Giles could see tears gathering in her eyes.

“The way he looks at me… he does not know what I lack. Or how I am… incomplete,” Giles sighed. “He sees me for what I am… as I am. He’s happy to see me. Every time… every day.”

The smile that had crept over Elisa’s face  as she signed about the creature faded into sad sincerity.

“Now I can either save him…” GIles interpreted. 

Elisa was crying now, but she wasn’t done.

She raised her hands. It was a clear sign, one Giles knew well. Two hands held flat, one palm up, the other palm down, both turned over at once.

“Or let him die.”

Giles let out his deepest sigh yet. 

“I’m leaving.”

Elisa grabbed him again and tried to shake him out of this. He struggled against her grip, her hands strengthened by a lifetime of words.  

“Elisa let go of me,” he said before finally pushing her off. 

He was too upset to immediately register that he had almost hit his own child. 

“We can do nothing,” Giles snapped. “Now I have to go.”

_ What if it was Andrew _ ? She signed angrily.  _ What if you had the chance to save him? You said if you could- _

“It is not the same thing,” Giles growled, raising a finger at her. “It’s… it’s… God it’s not even human.”

With that he turned, cutting her off from any further argument. It was a cowardly move on his part, he knew. A move that he was careful not to do. But he had no time to spare.

He stormed down the hall. There was a huge thud against the wall.

“What?” He snapped, turning back to her.

_ If we do nothing, neither are we _ .

 

Giles had been waiting on Bernie for far too long, but that was the furthest thing from his mind right now.

It had been so long since he had fought with Elisa like that. 

At first, his brain kept telling him that it had been back after Andrew died, which only served to make the mention of him sting all the more. But there had been something a few years ago. Still a while ago, but far more recent.

Elisa had asked for tickets to some touring musical of which she wanted Giles to go with her. He bought the tickets as a gift, but politely declined attending it with her, encouraging her instead to attend with a friend or a date. She took that as he didn’t want to spend time with her, to which he tried to explain he just wanted her to go out more and make friends. She snapped that she tried all the time, but no one understood her so it was easier to just spend time with him. In a moment of anger he couldn’t explain to this day, he retaliated that perhaps that was just an excuse. 

The tickets had gone unused. And though since they had enjoyed attending and watching musicals together, both those on stage and on-screen, they had never since mentioned the incident of  _ The Pajama Game.  _

Even now, years and years later, the pain of that incident lingered. And it had been a minor squabble. What would  _ this _ fight mean in the long run?

“Giles,” Bernie called out, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

“Bernie,” he said, getting up and starting towards the Klein and Saunders building. 

But Bernie didn’t move. 

“You should have just… mailed the art,” he said softly. 

“No. I want to show it to the team. In person,” Giles said, trying his best to sound happy. “Show everyone. And say hello. They’re always happy to see me.”

He wouldn’t meet Giles’ eye.

“You know how, the other day, you mentioned that you wanted to come back?”

“Yes,” Giles said, nodding vigorously. “Yeah. Come out of retirement.You know, my daughter and I both agreed I should retire a while back but I think we were just scared. Made a rash decision. I think I want to come back, come out of retirement. I mean, all I do is work on stuff for you anyways. I might as well be around the rest of the team.”

Giles chuckled, but Bernie did not. 

“Giles,” Bernie started. “You know that I’ve always been a fan of your work, but… ads just aren’t the same anymore. It’s not a good time. To come out of retirement.”

Giles frowned. 

“When would be a good time, Bernie?”

Bernie sighed deeply.

“When you can come back with a camera.”

Bernie tried to clap Giles on the shoulder as he walked away, but Giles shrugged him off. 

He was tempted to drop the artwork in the first trash can he saw, but somehow it made it all the way to the counter of the pie shop. It had felt electric in his hands the whole walk over, but not like a spark, like a creative urge. More like several steadily growing shocks. Like any second it would electrocute him.

“You painted that?” the man at the pie shop asked as he passed Giles at the counter. Giles nodded. “Wowee. You’re good.”

“Not as good as a photograph,” he mumbled. 

The man handed him a piece of pink and purple pie with an “on the house” as he crossed around the counter to the stool next to him. As he did, Giles snuck a glance at the menu to try and figure out what the he was being served. The menu read “tutti-frutti”. Giles had no idea what the hell that meant.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” the man said, waving it away. “We don’t get many like you around here. You seem really educated and I like talking to you.”

Giles heart skipped a beat. 

“You know I work alone,” he said, the words sour on his tongue. “And my daughter… she’s not much of a conversationalist. So I come here…”

“For the conversation.Yeah exactly. You know, it’s like tending bar. You serve people pie. Get to know ‘em.”

Giles stared into the man’s eyes. His words were so kind, and it had been so long since he had been spoken to in such a manner. He reached out and took the man’s hand before he had a second thoughts. 

“I’d like to get to know you better.”

Immediately, the man tensed and pulled away. With it went every ounce of dignity in his body.

“What are you doing, old man?’

Giles was saved from having to answer by the tinkling of the bell on the door. 

A black couple came in and began to sit down at the counter. 

“No, no, no. Not the counter. Take out only. You can’t sit down. You want to order something, you take it out.”

The woman and man exchanged glances.

“But it’s empty. The counter is empty.”

“All reserved all day. You don’t sit down.”

The man gently led his wife back out the door. The pie man ushered them out with a “y’all come back now ya hear?” in his fake Southern drawl. 

“You shouldn’t talk to them like that,” Giles muttered.

“You should go too,” the man said in a low voice. “And don’t come back. This is a family restaurant.”

The word haunted him all the way home. A family restaurant. Family restaurant.  _ Family _ .

He knocked on Elisa’s door. 

For a moment, there was just silence. Then he heard the footsteps. 

Elisa opened the door. 

“You are the only family I have left. And you’re the only person I can talk to,” Giles said. “Whatever this thing is. You need it. So…”

The words caught in his throat.

“So you just tell me what to do.”

 

Being forgotten and ignored had always bothered Elisa. She lived in society’s proverbial blind spot, save for two people who happened to be her best friend and her father. She hated it. How people talked over her, or worse,  _ about _ her like she wasn’t standing in front of them. 

But today that invisibility was a superpower. Her ability to go unnoticed by others  allowed her the freedom to create her plan without any suspicion from anyone else.

She imagined she was a spy in a Hollywood action thriller, collecting intel for her superiors under the guise of an Occam research scientist. She was the beautiful protagonist who had to fight the forces that be, break the law, all to save an innocent creature from a terrible fate. 

She didn’t like that though. Calling him an innocent creature. It made him sound like a bunny rabbit. And he was no bunny rabbit. 

Elisa wasn’t too sure he was all that innocent either. The official record might say that Strickland got his finger bitten off “by a vicious and dangerous animal acting out of defense when provoked”, but Elisa knew how intelligent the creature in the lab and was getting more and more convinced that he had known  _ exactly  _ what he was doing.

She couldn’t think of herself as saving a doomed lover either. They weren’t lovers. Though Elisa felt  they shared a deep bond and maybe- no,  _ no _ . That was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

Maybe he was a doomed… friend. Yes. That was it. She was saving a doomed  _ friend _ , a friend in need. 

And she, unassuming as she was, would shock them all at her spectacular rescue of the creature all while operating completely under the radar. 

That sounded like a Hollywood blockbuster to her. One worthy of all the Academy Awards. 

Perhaps it would not be one  _ everyone _ would want to watch, but  _ she _ would want to watch it. 

But only if it had a big dance number. Otherwise what’s the point?

“So I’ll drive down the loading dock at five am,” Giles said, spinning from his easel to face Elisa. “The shifts will be changing and it’ll all be chaos. And I’ll have how much time?”

_ Five _ , Elisa signed seriously.  _ Five minutes _ .

“Five minutes. I got it. Five am, five minutes. Five, five. And you’ll move the security camera. And I’m going to synchronize our watches, just like they do in the movies,” Giles said as Elisa took off her watch and handed it to him. 

He took it and then sat back, overwhelmed by pride.

“Hunny, I’m just so proud of you. I mean, I’m always proud, but… oh you’re just not  _ afraid _ .”

Elisa stared. For a moment, she wondered if she should just accept her father’s words and not correct him. But her stomach had been in knots for the last three days and kept threatening to (physically) expel her fear, so adding another lie didn’t seem to be the best option. 

“You are? Very? Don’t tell me that. I’m terrified?” Giles said nervously. Then a thought occurred to him. “Oh! The van. Did you look at it? The emblem, the city morgue emblem, does it look right?”

_ It looks great _ , Elisa signed, nodding. But Giles suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“Does it  _ have _ to be from the morgue? Can’t it be something like a laundry van or something? And you could use a laundry cart-”

_ Why would  _ **_I_ ** _ be using a laundry cart?  _ She asked incredulously.

“Well maybe not you but-”

_ I’m not involving her _ , she signed before Giles could finish his statement.

“Fine, but why the mor- I mean... why would the morgue even be visiting Occam? What would they be doing there?”

_ Deliveries _ , Elisa answered, exasperated. They’d already been through this several times.  _ For research. _

“Cadaver deliveries? But  _ why? _ Are they delivering… fresh ones? Or taking them away?”

Elisa sighed.

_ Both _ .

“Why have I let you work there for fifteen years?”

Elisa ignored him, instead stepping forward to point at the identification card Giles had been working on at his easel. Giles turned to look.

Hers sat next to it. He’d already placed in into the typewriter and filled in fake information including an ID number, fake name, and  _ Mortuary Services _ under job title.

“I think it’s some of my best work,” he said. “Michael Parker. A good, trustworthy name. A little butch but…”

Elisa pointed at the box labeled “age”.

“Yes. Age fifty-one.”

Elisa shook her head and wiggled a finger for him to raise it. He sighed.

“Fifty-four.”

Elisa straightened up, her face neutral.

“You don’t have to be rude,” he muttered. 

Giles picked up his pen, dipped it in ink, and crossed the one into a seven.

“Fi-fifty-seven?” he asked. “If I wear, the hair I can pull it off.”

Elisa stepped back, to observe the ID from afar. She knew the paper he had on hand wasn’t quite thick enough, but hopefully with the plastic covering, no one would notice. 

Giles spun in his chair once more and put his pen in his teeth so he could model potential outfits. 

“So I’ve got your extra lab coat on top and I was thinking I’d wear one of these. So this-” He motioned to the sweater he was already wearing. “This I think says ‘working man’, but this. This one- Oh Thor. Get. Get off.”

He shooed the cat off a yellow sweater and picked it up.

“But this one,” he continued. “I think this says ‘casual, but still stylish’. What do you think.”

Elisa nodded, pointing at the yellow sweater.

“I agree. I agreed,” Giles said with a deep breath, starting to nod as well. “I think we’re ready.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter than usual, but I think the escape warrants it's own chapter. 
> 
> Also, did you like the little meta/ sort of fourth wall break I threw in there ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ) 
> 
>  
> 
> I'll say it's very strange to write fanfiction and have it not be all that out of the realm of possibility for the character to imagine they are  _in_ a piece of fiction. But it's canon that she loves movies and at one point even imagines herself  _in a movie_ soooo... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
>  
> 
> Also, you might have noticed we've got a chapter count now! That means it's official. I even went through and determined what scenes the rest of the chapters will consist of. We're nearing the end, but don't despair! There is still much in store and I think you'll enjoy it. 
> 
>  
> 
> And as always, thank you all for reading. Your continued hits and kudos and comments truly have kept this fic going. Every single one has been innumerably important to me and this work. Thank you thank you thank you.


	16. Chapter 16

Elisa felt so exhilarated, she didn’t even care that she had been summoned to deliver something to Strickland’s office, which meant she had to trek all the way back up to the main lobby . 

Though it wasn’t time yet for the true plan to unfurl, step one had already been successful. 

Just a few minutes ago, a team of graveyard shifters had delivered a giant wheeled metal tub she had used for her previous research down to T-4. She had carefully planned it so she was the only one in the lab (save for the creature), so no one else saw it delivered. 

The thrill of hiding it under a sheet back behind the computers where none of the other scientists ever went was exciting but what truly brought her the most joy was the fact that she had _faked the requisition form_ _right under Fleming’s nose_. He had even _signed_ it. Both him and Dr. Hoffstetler. And neither had even noticed.

Though she nor her father nor Andrew when he had been alive were what Zelda referred to as “God-fearing people”, she felt that there was some kind of divine intervention going on here. But  perhaps it wasn’t God with a capital ‘G’, she thought. Maybe it was a lowercase ‘g’, preluded with the word ‘river’.

“Ms. DuPont,” Strickland greeted, his formidable features stretched into a taut smile. “Thank you for coming up. Do you have the papers?”

Elisa nodded and stepped forward. She raised a manila folder to him.

“Thank you so much,” he said in an odd tense yet attempting to be warm tone. “I’d have come down to get them myself, but I’ve been so busy.”

Elisa’s eyes flicked to his empty desk, which seemed to make him squirm. When she looked back to him, she noticed that same strange hungry look in them as she had seen when she and Zelda had been brought in for questioning.

He raised his bandaged hand take the folder from her, but he couldn’t seem to grab it, and numerous papers flew out as the folder fell.

“Oh I’m so sorry,” he said. “Could you get those for me? The fingers… they’re not too good…”

Elisa nodded once and knelt down to begin gathering them up.

“You know, I can’t figure it out myself,” Strickland said. His tone was suddenly far more serious, more confidant. “You’re not much to look at.”

Elisa felt her face grow hot. She tried to focus on gathering up the papers. Not that she  _ wanted _ his horrible man to have any interest in her, but she never enjoyed being reminded that the only people that had ever called her beautiful were her fathers, who she was convinced only said it because they were her parents and they had to.

“But go figure, I keep thinking about you.”

Elisa felt something grip her heart. Something hot and sharp and incredibly uncomfortable.

Strickland knelt down in front of her as she gathered the papers into a stack. 

“When you say you’re mute, are you completely silent or do you squawk a little?” he asked, looking her straight in the eye. He smiled, which made the sharp feeling grip her heart tighter. “Some mutes squawk. Not pretty, but…”

She straighten up the papers and prepared to stand when his hand grabbed her wrist, holding her to the floor. 

“You should know....” he said in a low voice. “I don’t mind those scars. I don’t mind that you can’t speak either. When you come right down to it. I like it.  _ A lot _ . Kind of gets me going.”

Elisa’s breath caught in her throat. She felt paralyzed with fear. Not unlike her own paralyzed vocal cords, the very ones signified by the scars he was staring at so intensely, she thought darkly. 

He raised a hand to touch her face and immediately to pulled back out of his reach. She jumped to her feet, and darted to the door. The papers and folder lay forgotten where he knelt.

“Hey,” he called as she backed up to the doorway.

He just stood there, smirking.

“I bet I could make you squawk a little.”

And with that, Elisa ran.

She ran and ran and ran, not caring how many MPs saw her or how many people barked at her as she did so. She had to get as far away as possible. 

She ended up in the ladies’ locker room. Zelda was there, locking up her locker, preparing to go home. 

“Hey hunny. You okay?” Zelda asked. 

In that moment, Elida wished she could explain everything to Zelda.  _ Everything _ . The plan, the creature, the vivisection. 

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t let Zelda be involved. Elisa had already come to terms with the fact that this could not only cost her her job but her life. She couldn’t let Zelda be part of it.

So she nodded. 

“I want to get home early. My feet are killing me.”

She nodded again as Zelda crossed in front of her and out. She took a deep breath and looked at her watch. 4:32am. Twenty-eight minutes until go time.

Elisa made her way out to the loading dock, extra careful to check for any graveyard shifters secretly smoking. With a pang, she thought of Zelda again. 

She should have written her a note, just in case all this went poorly and she ended up in a federal prison cell or got shot. Not even about the plan. Just to tell her how much she loved her and how much Zelda’s friendship meant to her. How Zelda was truly the best friend she’d ever had and she hoped that none of this would come back to haunt her. 

But there was no time for that now. 

The graveyard shifters usually used a broom to move the camera, but Elisa was unconvinced of her potential success with that method. 

For one thing, she was only five feet and two inches tall, and though her shoes tended to give her and extra inch or two, she had worn flat black rubber-soled sneakers tonight in case she needed to run. For two, she had heard that Strickland spent a lot of time watching the security cameras. What if she accidentally moved the broom in front of it?

She decided instead to lift a huge canister directly under the camera. 

Her muscles screamed and her eyes streamed as she tried to pick it up. It took all her strength to lift it, and once she placed, every cell in her body was ready to give up. 

But she couldn’t. She wasn’t done yet. She needed to think of the creature, doomed to die in twelve hours. The thought, the _ horrible, horrible _ thought of him on an operating table, chained down as somebody with a scalpel prepared to cut him open propelled her forward. 

She climbed up on top of the canister only to find she  _ still _ wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the camera. She lifted herself onto her toes and reached her arms up.

The canister underneath her wobbled. She caught herself just as her breath caught in her throat for the second time that night. 

Elisa forced herself to take a deep breath and lifted her arms again. Slowly, she pushed the camera up by the tips of her fingers so it stared out at a vent instead of down at the dock below.

Taking another deep breath, Elisa stepped down from the canister. She’d moved the camera. Step two was successful. 

She checked her watch. 4:41 am. Nineteen minutes to go. Just enough time to fill the tub with water and find Dr. Hoffstetler’s notes so she could prepare the water with the appropriate amount of saline tablets and algae. Just enough time to prepare to pull off the impossible.

 

Training to be a sleeper agent involved knowing how to kill, but that didn’t stop the syringe in Dimitri’s pocket from feeling like it was filled with lead.

He tried to tell himself that Strickland would listen to reason and there would be no need to kill him or the creature. But that was a long shot, and he knew it wouldn’t work. But at this point, he had to try.

“We need to delay the procedure,” he said as he rushed into Strickland’s office. 

“Knock first,” Strickland said before Dimitri could say another word. 

“Wh-what?”

“Knock before you enter my office,” Strickland repeated. 

His face was half-hidden by a book titled  _ The Power of Positive Thinking _ , but it did not hide the pleasure in his eyes.

“This is urgent.”

“Go back out, knock, and then I’ll let you in and we’ll talk. It’s protocol. I’m just following protocol.”

Dimitri was sure Strickland lifted the book up in higher front of his face at that moment to cover a smile. 

With a deep breath (and a reminder to himself that this office was full of windows and everyone could see if he shoved the syringe deep in Strickland’s chest like he wanted to), Dimitri stepped back to the doorway. He rapped hard on the door, not breaking eye contact, and then stepped forward again.

But before he could argue, Strickland ordered him to close the door.

“See? That’s the way. Now we can talk,” Strickland said, lowering the book.

“I need more time.”

“Don’t let the fact that you feel like a loser distract you. Now that you’ve let your competitive tendencies-”

“I’m not competitive,” Dimitri snapped, angry both with Strickland and with himself for letting him get pulled into Strickland’s game. “I just don’t want to see a beautiful creature destroyed.”

“Look,” Strickland said, rising from his chair and stepping closer to Hoffstetler. “This thing dies. You learn. I leave. Out of here. I settle down. My  _ family  _ settles down. Somewhere nicer. A city. A  _ real _ city.”

“This creature,” Dimitri pushed. “It’s intelligent. Capable of language, of understanding emotions.”

“So are the Soviets,” Strickland said casually, complete with a shrug. “The Gooks. And we still kill them.”

Dimitri felt the fire rise in his chest at the mention of his people and was ready to just do it, to  _ strike _ , when he noticed movement over Strickland’s shoulder. 

A security camera, the one that had been facing the loading dock, was moving upwards.

Somebody had moved it. 

“And I don’t want to stay in this shithole any longer than I need to,” Strickland continued, not realizing Dimitri had not been listening. “Do you? Bob, I said do you?”

Dimitri looked back at him. 

“No, I don’t.”

Without another word, Dimitri strode out of the office and down to the loading dock. Ensuring he was not noticed was the only thing that kept him from sprinting. 

He found the security camera that had been moved. From this angle down here on the ground, it was clearly incorrect. It faced a heating vent, unable to see anything that occurred below it.

Dimitri glanced down at the ground. 

Right below it was a canister. 

He rushed back inside and made his way towards T-4. 

It was lunch for most of the scientists, which left ample opportunity for anyone who could access the lab to go in alone. But when he arrived, no one was there yet. 

At least no one had reacted to the sound of the buzzer and the door sliding open. 

He closed it again, and tucked himself behind a beam, waiting. 

Perhaps they weren’t here. Perhaps they had moved the camera for something else, like to smoke. He had considered it once or twice himself when he really needed a cigarette. But then why had it not moved back?

Then he saw it. Tentative movement, from behind the computers.

It was the research assistant. She was struggling to push a huge wheeled tub towards the large pool. Dimitri recognized it as one of the large containers her research specimens had been stored in before he had taken over. And he could tell by the green hue of the water that it was meant for his own specimen.

Elisa pushed the tub with all her strength, throwing every ounce of her weight behind it. She wished she could control her adrenaline at will and force it to give her superhuman strength just for this moment.

She got it as close as she could to the pool and then ran for the ledge. The creature rose out of the water as if it had been waiting for her. 

That’s when she remembered the metal collar around his neck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

“Hey. What are you waiting for?” Yolanda asked Zelda as she struggled to hold the elevator door open.

“Have you seen Elisa?” Zelda asked, looking around. 

“Come on Zelda,” Yolanda moaned. 

Zelda waved her off. 

There had been something wrong with Elisa recently.

Around the time the thing in T-4 had bitten off Strickland’s fingers, Elisa had been hanging around her less and less. 

She had stopped showing up in the cafeteria at lunch times, or down at the loading dock to smoke. The former Zelda figured was due to the researchers putting her to work, and the latter she figured was because Elisa had a hard time smoking.

But the other day, Zelda had walked right past Elisa and Elisa had not even noticed her. She had been staring ahead at the floor, incredibly focused and not looking around at all. 

That was unlike her. 

Brewster had warned her long ago that a white friend was only good for as long as they needed you. She, Zelda, both relished and hated the fact that she was the only one at Occam who could interpret Elisa’s signs. It made her feel needed, like so little else did. But it was also frustrating, treated like the point person instead of Elisa. 

What if Elisa had only stuck with her for so long because she needed an interpreter? What if someone else had learned her signs? There was a big enough team now, all working at the same time of day as Elisa. It made sense. 

With another interpreter, one who worked with her all the time, maybe Elisa wouldn’t need Zelda anymore. And if Elisa didn’t, who did?

Zelda found herself in front of the punch cards. 

Zelda had long been used to holding the line at the punch clock for Elisa. 

Elisa was salaried, unlike Zelda, so tracking her hours didn’t matter as much. However, though the mute woman was smart as a whip, she often seemed to live in her own world...which meant she was chronically late. This meant that she got audited far more often than other salaried employees,so her punch card always needed to be on time. 

When Elisa was handed the reins to T-4 and thus control to her schedule, she had opted to stay on the night shift (Zelda liked to think it was because of her). But in an attempt to fix her lateness, and because she enjoyed being snarky, Elisa changed her hours to “9-5”. Nine pm to five am, of course.

But when T-4 changed over, Elisa seemed to have gotten her act together and started showing up and punching in  _ early _ . 

Zelda’s heart clenched. Yet another way Elisa didn’t need her anymore.

Zelda observed the wall. One punch card was still unpunched. She picked it up. Sure enough, it was Elisa’s. 

She had every reason to leave it there. Just let her get in trouble, Zelda thought. She doesn’t care about you.

No. 

So what if Elisa didn’t care about their friendship?  _ Zelda _ cared. 

So, against what Zelda was sure was her better judgement, Zelda picked the card up out of it’s slot and punched it out.

 

Elisa’s mind raced with ways she could get the collar off. 

She had thought of bringing pliers but had opted not too in case someone found them on her person and assumed their use. And her keys were long gone. All she had was her own two hands.

“Did you move the camera? On the loading dock?” a voice said from behind her.

She turned so fast, she heard the bones of her neck crack. Instinctively, her arms rose to shield the creature from the owner of the voice. 

“Is that where you’re taking him? Through the service tunnels?” Dimitri asked as he stepped forward from the shadows. “That’s very smart.”

Elisa watched in fear as Dimitri reached into his pocket and pulled something out. She braced herself for getting shot. 

But instead he held out his keys.

“Who do you work for?”

Elisa didn’t have time to process this question, let alone consider how she’d answer it. Her brain buzzed with the fact that Dr. Hoffstetler, _ the man in charge of this lab _ , was offering her his keys, knowing full well that she was about to steal his prized creature.

Dimitri held out the keys again, urging her to take them. She did, snatching them out of his palm before he had a chance to change his mind.

As she took them, Dimitri took off towards the far side of the lab. She was sure he was about to pull the alarm but he passed right by it and started grabbing things out of drawers.

She turned back to the creature, running a reassuring hand over his shoulder as she inserted the key into the collar. The lock clicked and she was able to pull it off. 

She coaxed him up and out into the water, not giving her heart a chance to leap nor clench as he climbed out, free for the first time in months. 

She gestured him into the tub. He was too big for it, something they both knew, but obliged nonetheless. He climbed in awkwardly, before allowing his head and chest to slid under, leaving his feet sticking up out of the tub. Elisa would have laughed if she didn’t have to keep reminding her lungs to breathe.

“His water should be kept at seven to eight percent salinity,” Dimitri instructed, handing her a few tools, which she slid into her pocket. “Just use table salt. And put one of these in his water every three days.”

He tried to hand her a box of algae, but her hands were full and since the tub was full of water, she could not put it in there. 

Instead, she leaned over the tub and coaxed the creature’s head up. He raised his eyes above water level. She held out her hands, and then encouraged him to do the same. 

The creature raised his hands, curiously. She could tell he was about to sign ‘why?’ when she put the box into his hands. 

She was sure that he had seen the scientists dump these into his water, and was sure he was going to pull it down into the water with him. But he didn’t. He must have known that it was stored dry. 

As she started to heave the tub towards the service tunnel door, she allowed her heart to surge, just for a second, because it was happening. It was  _ working _ . 

Her creature, her beautiful intelligent creature, he was going to be  _ free _ .  

She was snapped out of this rush by Dimitri’s parting voice.

“In five minutes, I’ll meet you at the loading dock. The lights will go out, so be prepared.”

 

Fleming always felt both nervous and bitter when he stepped into Strickland’s office. 

Well, he thought, mostly bitter. 

Strickland may like to pretend to follow protocol, to rub it in other people’s faces, but according to  _ protocol _ , Strickland’s office should be upstairs on the ground floor. One of the nice offices with the big cushy chairs.

Instead he had asked, no,  _ demanded  _  the Control Center. That was  _ his  _ office. Fleming’s office. 

It’s against protocol. Heck, it wasn’t  _ right _ . Plain and simple. You just don’t take another man’s office. 

But Fleming had risen just about as far as he could up the ranks of Occam. If he wanted to keep rising he would need to kiss Strickland’s… rear, so that Strickland would get Hoyt to put in a good word with him at the Pentagon. 

“Mr. Strickland, sir?” he said, trying to play up the nervous and quash the bitter. “Twelve hours ‘til the vivisection of the Asset and, uh, I need your signature here please.”

Strickland turned from his place staring at the security monitors and took the offered pen from Fleming. 

Down at the entrance below, a military policeman stepped out of his booth, blowing on his tea as he raised a hand to stop Giles. 

“Identification please,” he said in an almost bored voice. 

Giles tried to get the card out of the lab coat pocket, but it was difficult. 

Elisa was far more petite than he had thought (or perhaps he had gained a little more weight in his retirement than he wanted to admit to himself), which meant her old lab coat was very tight on him. He kept smiling as he fished it out, his arms burning as blood was cut off around his armpits.

“Michael Parker,” the MP said looking from the card up to Giles. “Is that you?"

“My whole life,” Giles said with a chuckle. 

He wasn’t sure if the MP was just trained not to react or if he was unconvinced that he was Michael Parker. 

The MP looked down at the card again, giving Giles just enough time to sit forward and see if he could see the loading dock from where his van sat.

He couldn’t see clearly, but he could just make out a figure standing there and he prayed and prayed that it was Elisa and not somebody else.

Elisa, in fact, was just now reaching the dock. 

Her excursion through the service tunnel had taken longer than expected as she struggled to keep pushing the tub. It was heavy enough empty, but now with water  _ and _ the creature inside, it barely budged. 

She gave a huge heave that pushed the tub  forward a few feet. As she opened her eyes to see how much farther she had to go, she saw the person waiting on her. 

It was Zelda, standing on the far end of the dock. 

No, no, no, no, no.

She was dressed in her street clothes, purse in hand. She had been ready to leave and had come back to figure out what she, Elisa, had been doing. Elisa would have been overwhelmed by the show of concern if she hadn’t been trying so hard to keep Zelda away from all of this. 

Elisa took a deep breath, and grabbed the tub. She started pushing it forward as much as she could as Zelda started walking straight towards her. Elisa had just reached the middle of the platform, right where she had instructed her father to meet her, as Zelda caught up to her. 

Zelda grabbed the other side of the tub and stopped it.

“Are you out of your mind?” she snapped. 

Elisa pushed again, her eyes flicking up and down from Zelda to the tub, trying hard to get Zelda to understand. 

“Don’t do this Elisa,” she warned, though her voice quickly turned pleading. “ _ Don’t do this _ .”

 

Upstairs, just as he finished signing the paper, Strickland was distracted by motion on the cameras.

“What’s that? What’s that vehicle?” he asked as he watched the camera.

“Oh gosh, sir. I don’t know,” Fleming asked, adjusting his glasses as he leaned forward to observe better. “Morgue van? Probably a delivery for Dr. Winestock’s study...”

Fleming flipped a page on his clipboard, and frowned.

“It’s not scheduled-”

Before Fleming could offer any more explanation, Strickland bit hard into his hard candy and grabbed the receiver of the white phone. He spun the dial and held the phone to his ear. 

The other end rang at the MP’s booth. 

Giles held his breath (and adjusted his hair) as the MP turned to answer it. But when the man stopped, Giles was compelled to figure out why. And as he leaned forward to look, his eyes grew wide in horror as he saw the ink of his 51-turned-57 smeared across the card.

When the other end was not answered, Strickland slammed the receiver down and grabbed his cattle prod. 

Down below, the MP pulled out his gun and aimed it at Giles. 

“Step out of the vehicle.”

Why “I’m not good at this” was the first thing that came out of Giles’ mouth, somehow getting a place in line  _ ahead _ of “please God don’t shoot me”, Giles never understood.

He offered apology after apology, tugging at the seat belt, but it wouldn’t give. And he was sure, as the lights went off and buzzers started sounding, that this was it. This was the end. He wouldn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Elisa, but maybe he’d get the chance to see Andrew again.

But then like an angel sent from heaven to inform him it wasn’t his time after all, a man in a lab coat walked up from out of the darkness and plunged a syringe into the MPs neck. The MP collapsed against the hood of the van. 

Giles froze as the man stepped to his window. 

“She’s waiting for you at the docks,” the,man stated before he returned to the fallen MP and started dragging him off to the side.

Giles shifted the gear and the van leapt forward towards the dock. Before he realized it, he was backing up and climbing through, before opening the doors to find Elisa, a black woman he assumed was her friend Zelda, and a huge tub. The man with the syringe ran up behind them.

“Who’s that man?” Giles asked, pointing at Dimitri. “I think he just killed someone.”

_ He’s with us _ , Elisa signed quickly before shifting her attention back to the creature.

Her assurance had not served to make Giles feel any better.

Elisa’s plan had been to transport the creature all the way back to her apartment in the tub. But there was no way they’d be able to lift it inside.  

Instead, she pulled the sheet off.

Her heart swelled at the sight of his webbed hands holding the box of algae above water like she had instructed. She took it from him and slid it into the back of the van.

She leaned over, hoping he could see her, and gestured for him to come out. He did so, pulling his feet inside the tub so he could stand. 

“Oh my God,” Giles said as the creature stood up before him. “Oh my God oh my God oh my God.”

Zelda would later realize that’s how she felt upon seeing the creature too, though in the moment, it was far too many words than she would have been able to get out. 

This wasn’t some animal. It was… well, it wasn’t a man. But it was  _ like  _ a man. 

She suddenly understood Strickland’s warning that it would appear human. It definitely  _ wasn’t _ , but it definitely wasn’t just an animal. That’s for sure. 

Elisa ushered the creature into the van. He blinked, his head turned in curiosity, which made her usher him in faster. 

Giles helped the creature in. Elisa was about to climb in right behind him when she snatched the fallen sheet off the ground and dunked it in the tub. 

She threw it inside the van, only to look up at Dimitri who was ready to send them on their way. In an instant, they thought the same thing.

The tub.

It was full of water and algae, clearly a tool to help the creature escape. And  _ she _ was the only person who really knew about them, let alone would have thought of it as a tool for escape.

Dimitri looked down at the tub and then back up at her.

“Did I sign the form?”

Elisa nodded.

“Then I’ll tell them I requested it for an experiment and it was stolen out of the lab before I could use it,” he said. “Now  _ go _ .”

Elisa backed up, signing “thank you” over and over again. 

Dimitri grabbed Zelda’s hands as soon as Giles had started to pull off, and pulled her away. 

“He’s so beautiful,” Giles said, distracted from the road by the creature.

No matter how much Elisa agreed with him, now was not the time. 

She felt the van swerve off to the right, and slapped the back of the passenger’s seat hard. But it was too late.

The van hit something in the lot, and they thudded to a halt. 

Elisa’s arms were wrapped around the creature, so her body protected him from the collision. That was good. But the creature had started wheezing. And no doubt Strickland had figured this all out by now and was on his way down. They were running out of time.

Giles leaned out of the window. 

“Did- did I do that?”

A gunshot rang out from behind them.

“I’m just not good at this,” Giles groaned as he shifted gears.

The van lurched forward, disconnecting from whatever it hit.

A bullet pierced the back of the van. Another hit the license plate. And another hit the rear view window. Elisa gasped and hugged the creature tighter to her. 

Giles gunned the engine. He didn’t dare look back until they had crossed the barrier and out into the night. At that moment, he snuck a glance backwards through what was left of the mirror. 

The lights at the compound blazed back into life. And they were speeding away at sixty miles an hour. 

He couldn’t believe it. They had done it.

 

But Elisa wasn’t ready to celebrate quite yet. 

When the van was safely stowed in the alley, Giles and Elisa wrapped the sheet around him and helped him up the front stairs. 

His flippers were excellently made for swimming but not for climbing. It was a long process. 

Elisa flung back the shower curtain as Giles supported the creature towards her bathtub. She ran the water, and tossed the box of algae in. 

The creature collapsed into the tub. She swirled the water around him, aiming for his gills. But he still wheezed, his gills fluttering. He gasped like was dying, slowly suffocating. 

What was wrong? What was she missing?

Elisa flipped through the checklist in her mind. She turned on Giles.

“Salt? What do you mean salt?” he asked, confused. 

She didn’t have time for this. 

She pushed past him and immediately went for the salt shaker on her table. Her father called after her as she rounded the corner for the bigger container in her cupboard. 

He, at least, had the good sense to move back as she ran back towards the tub. 

She dropped to her knees in front of the tub and started pouring the salt into it. The researcher voice in her head kept telling her that she should be measuring this. Too much salinity could hurt him too. But her desperation was louder. 

She swirled her hands through the water. 

The creature’s wheezing wasn’t stopping. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse. 

It turned just slightly, looking her straight in the eyes. Then both eyelids slid shut and he drooped into the water.

Elisa could feel her heart turn to ice. 

What the hell had she just done?

There was a moment of silence. Nothing moved. No one breathed. There was total and absolute silence as the seriousness of the matter fell on them. 

And then his eyes opened once more. He inhaled deeply, still looking at her. 

Elisa started breathing as well. It was like all life had begun again. 

She turned to look at Giles. He nodded slightly and then seemed to collapse back in the sink. 

Her shoulders relaxed. Giles pointed towards the tub and she nodded, biting her lip. But when he kept pointing, she looked down. The rest of the salt was pouring out onto the floor. 

She immediately closed the spout as her father chuckled. And she chuckled too.

No, she  _ laughed. _ Her true laugh. The one she hid from the world. It was the only little bit of sound she could make, and to most it didn’t sound like laughter, just breathy wheezing. Nothing ever seemed because to warrant the stares and the snickers.

But you know what? Today, it was hers. It was  _ her  _ laugh and by God, this  _ warranted _ it. 

She had done the impossible. She had rescued the creature from hell. He was  _ here _ . Living in her bathtub. 

And though the little voice in her head kept telling her that it wouldn’t last, she didn’t care. 

She didn’t care as she went to the market and bought all the salt and eggs and meat she could. She didn’t care as she passed the canal, making mental note of the sign that said the canal opened at thirty feet. She didn’t care as she marked the calendar with “rain/docks”, effectively cementing the end of their time together in stone. 

Elisa reached into one of the bags and she and Giles unpacked the groceries. 

“What’s that?” 

Elisa looked up to him, and held the card closer to her chest. 

“Let me see it.”

She raised her eyebrows, and pulled it farther away as she stepped closer to the bathroom.

“Is that for me?”

She smirked, and shook her head. 

Elisa enjoyed playing coy with her father. Of course, he’d see soon enough. Plus, for so long, he had been the only one she ever showed things to. But now, there was someone else to show first. 

But as she stepped into the bathroom and made for the edge of the tub, though she was smiling broadly, she felt incredibly nervous. And the feeling increased when he chirruped slightly as she sat down. Like he was greeting her. 

Her heart beat fast as she turned the card around. It was white with a blue-green cover. A little cartoon man in a coat and hat held a green fish in a bowl. Above his head were the words “ _ Glad To Have You As A Friend”. _

His interest drew him closer to her. He chirped again and raised a claw to the picture on the card. He tapped the fish in the bowl.

She smiled, gushing. She pointed at the fish and then at him, nodding to confirm what he had already recognized, and then tapped the little man and pointed to herself.

His claw brushed down the paper to her fingers. His golden eyes seemed to go back and forth between them and her own, chirping softly, as if he was asking permission.

Elisa beamed, which he seemed to take as a ‘yes’. His fingers interlaced with hers.

From the doorway, Giles peeked inside. 

Elisa and the creature seemed connected, frozen in time. There was no one else but them, together. 

A smile crept over his face as a peculiar thought crossed his mind. Something a little ridiculous, a little crazy, and a little bit wonderful. It should bother him, he was sure, but after all they had done, all he had seen in these last few days, perhaps it wasn’t so crazy after all.

Though Elisa was thirty-seven, Giles had the funny feeling she had just brought home her first boyfriend.

 

we reach for her hands her small hands her pale hands and we wonder how she can swim with such small hands we want to hold her hands we want to thank her hands her magic hands her hands that are full of words and full of secrets and sometimes full of eggs we want to touch her hands we want her to feel our appreciation through our hands into her hands we wonder if she wants us to touch her hands /// she knows our strength we want her to know our strength we want her to know we are strong and the bad man did not hurt us but we bit the hand of the bad man we bit the fingers off of the bad man and we worry she not let us touch her hands because we bit the bad man we worry she is afraid we do not want her to be afraid we want her to be happy only happy for all of time /// the woman she is smiling she is happy to let us touch her hands her smile is as bright as the trees as bright as the flowers as bright as the sun not the fake suns but the sun of home we are happy to be in the small cave with her but we want to take her to our home the home with the vines and the birds and the insects and the fish and the trees we want to show her the water the good water the water of home we want to share with her the water of home /// we are happy that she is sitting with us at the edge of the pond the small pond in her cave she brought us to her cave out of the bad cave to her cave her cave with her smells her cave is good her hands are good she is good /// we are happy to be out of the big bad cave and we are happy to come to her cave to be in her cave to be with her with her with her with her we are happy to be with her the good woman the smiling woman we are happy to hold her hands and she is happy to hold ours and she is happy to be with us in the small cave with the small pond and we are happy to be with her with her with her with her we are happy to be with her the woman we love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Fishboi is safe and everyone is happy and nothing bad will happen to any of them ever. 
> 
> Hahahaha. I wish. Sorry guys. This might be an AU, but we're still following the movie. 
> 
> I'm glad you guys have been enjoying my "Hollywood blockbuster" line in the last chapter :) Also, I'm publishing two in a day (well, technically two in two days because I'm writing this note at 12:10am EST so technically it's tomorrow) because I took a day alone today and sat in a coffee shop for SEVEN HOURS just working on stuff. First a study guide for a student/ mentee and then the last chapter as well as this one. Then I came home, took a bath, and then wrote some more. I was feeling really weird this week, and writing helps so, so much. I like to joke my top two self-care activities are other people's least favorite things to do: cook and write. But hey. When it works it works. 
> 
> Writing this chapter was especially fun. It includes my second favorite scene in the movie. Elisa's speech is definitely number one, but I really love the 'glad to have you as a friend' scene. Elisa's such a dork and I love her and a so does Fishboi and it's just so damn sweet. 
> 
> Anyways, I should go to bed. I hope you enjoyed this (very long chapter) and I'll see you in a few days! Only four more chapters left!


	17. Chapter 17

If the bond between Elisa and their unusual house guest was what Giles believed it to be, then it should not be surprising for her to adapt the mindset of a giddy teenager in love for the first time. After all, she had never been in love  _ as  _ a teenager, or ever, as far as he was concerned. So it was bound to happen at some point.

But not even considering this could Giles have predicted she would actually  _ act _ like a teenager. Like she had regressed by twenty years.

Giles collapsed in his bed across the hall almost immediately after stabilizing the creature in her bathtub. He had slept from about seven thirty all the way until four pm. And when he awoke, he had found that she still hadn’t gone to bed yet.

If she had been attending to the creature’s needs or was having a mental or emotional breakdown, he could have forgiven it. But no. She was sitting on the floor of the bathroom just staring at the creature.

“You need to go to sleep,” he ordered after dragging her out of the bathroom (so the angry hiss of the creature). “You said it yourself. You need to keep going to work as usual so no one suspects anything.”

_ I don’t need to sleep! I’m fine! _ She signed sincerely.  _ I’ll go to work at the normal time. No one will notice anything. It’ll all be okay! _

“Elisa you should have gone to bed two hours ago.”

_ I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. I don’t feel tired. _

Almost immediately she raised her fingers to her lips.

“Are you covering your mouth because you’re about to yawn?”

Elisa shook her head, but didn’t move her hand. And sure enough, he saw her take a deep breath.

“That’s what I thought. Elisa, go to bed,” Giles said sternly. 

_ Fine,  _ Elisa signed before throwing up her hands.  _ I’ll go to bed. _

“In my room,” Giles added, pointing towards the door.

Elisa looked offended.

_ Why? _

“Because I can’t trust that you’re actually going to go to bed instead of sitting next to the bathtub for the rest of the day.”

_ I’m an adult. I can sleep in my own room. _

“Fine,” Giles said, throwing up his hands. “But you have to go to bed.  _ Now _ . And don’t let me catch you in the bathroom.”

Ten minutes later, Giles went to check on her and found her curled up under a blanket next to the bathtub.

“Elisa what did I  _ just  _ say?”

She rolled over, her hands ready as if she was expecting him to walk in.

_ I’m not  _ **_sitting_ ** _ next to the bathtub. I’m lying down _ .

She stuck her tongue out for good measure and then rolled back over. The creature, who was sitting up watching the exchange, looked over the edge of the bathtub and chirped happily at his companion.

Giles considered giving the creature the evil eye, but figured he would take it as an act of agression, so instead he just huffed.

“Fine. Sleep there. But you’re waking up on time if I have to dump you in his water.”

Elisa considered playfully flipping him off, but decided not to push it too far and instead gave him a thumbs up.

Giles wanted to be upset with Elisa’s behavior but honestly? He couldn’t blame her.

Elisa had always had a very active imagination, which lent itself to a romantic personality. And it had been that way her whole life it seemed. Giles could recall conversations with Elisa as early as seven or eight about falling in love. 

_ Do you think I’m going to get married when I grow up? Elisa signed as Giles tucked her into bed one night. _

_ “Oh I’m sure dear.” _

_ To a handsome man? _

_ “Of course. But it’s important that he’s kind and smart too. Handsome is nice, but it’s more important that he’s kind.” _

_ Like you! She signed happily. Or like Daddy! _

_ Giles chuckled. _

_ “Yes, my love. Try and find someone like one of your dads.” _

_ Elisa shuffled farther underneath her covers, but seemed to have another thought. _

_ Daddy, do you think boys will like me? _

_ “Yes, my dear,” Giles reassured. “I’m sure that we’ll have to beat the boys off of you with a stick.” _

That had never proven to be true. 

Lovely as his daughter was, she had always been lonely. The little romance she had had always ended in more heartache than happiness. To his knowledge, she had only gone on three dates in her life, and none of them had ended well.

One had been a double date with her friend Alex in high school where Elisa’s date did not look at her the entire evening.

Another had been with a charming visiting researcher at Occam who had cursed Elisa out when their post-dinner return to her apartment did not immediately move to the bed.

The worst by far though, the one Giles tried to forget so he’d never accidentally bring it up, had started off innocent enough.

Sometime around her freshman year, Elisa had made a friend in science class named Benjamin. They often studied together and generally enjoyed each other’s company. A few months into this, Benjamin invited her to the soda shop for a milkshake. Elisa believed it to be a date, and had begged him and Andrew to let her go.

They relented but upon arrival, it was revealed there had been a misunderstanding. Elisa had understood it to be a date, while Benjamin thought they were just hanging out. There was some mild embarrassment by both sides, and the story could have ended there, had the mean popular girls not showed up. Unfortunately they did, and began chiding the pair about being on a date.

Now, had Benjamin stood his ground and stopped talking after “no, we’re just friends”, it would have turned out okay. But under pressure, he cracked and started offering any and every excuse as to why he didn’t want to date Elisa. They got worse and worse until he ended with “why would I want to date someone who belongs in the freak show?” 

Elisa ran home in tears. And come Monday morning, she was mortified to learn that the entire school was talking about it. 

So now, when a fish man creature thing who was kind and smart and, even Giles had to admit, rather good looking, how could he deny her the time with him? He’d never  _ truly _ been good at denying her anything, but this was something worth caving on. 

After all, she had a lifetime of loneliness to make up for.

 

Zelda had no idea how the hell Elisa could look like she was in such high spirits when at any moment they were going to be found out.

She glanced sideways at the woman who she could tell was somewhere far away from here in her head. She had on a benign smile like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Oh that’s good. Keep that up,” Zelda muttered out of the corner of her mouth. “Lookin like you don’t know anything.”

Elisa turned slightly, her eyebrows raised. Zelda closed her eyes and gave the smallest shake of her head.

“Lord help me if they ask me if I do,” she said in a low voice, turning on Elisa. “I’m not a good liar. Except to Brewster. It takes a lot of lies to keep a marriage going.”

The elevator dinged and the pair stepped out into a lobby that was far busier than usual. Over the intercom they could hear a man’s voice ask to have clearance and identification cards ready for processing. 

“Look what you’ve done,” Zelda hissed. “You’ve done got us in a world of trouble.”

They joined the queue for the punch clock. Elisa pulled herself back to reality, suddenly aware of how possible it was that Zelda might be right.

After punching, she turned to see Fleming and Strickland chatting alone, right inside one of the windowed rooms. Had she not been so worried about doing anything out of the ordinary or drawing any kind of attention to herself, she would have tried to read their lips.

Inside the glass though, those at the punch clock were of absolutely no interest to Strickland. At least not yet. At some point in the evening he was going to have to check all their time cards, but he seriously doubted any of these graveyard shifters could have stolen the Asset.

“In my opinion, sir,” Fleming started. “We are looking at a highly trained group. I’m thinking... conceivably, sir, special forces.”

This grabbed Strickland’s attention. He looked to Fleming.

“Red Army special forces?”

“Conceivably.”

Strickland looked out the window and noticed Elisa. She must have been waiting for her janitor friend. 

Elisa felt her heart start to beat faster as Strickland looked up at her. She was ready for him to frown or react as if about to run out and arrest her but instead he did something far worse: he nodded at her. Almost… smiling.

Elisa immediately looked away, willing the bile rising in her throat to return to where it came from. She felt a swoop of dark pleasure as she wondered if the creature had bitten off a different one of Strickland’s appendages if she’d be having this problem. That dark pleasure was quickly replaced with guilt as she realized if  _ that _ had happened, the creature would never survived long enough to become her friend. 

“A highly-trained, well-financed… An elite group, sir,” Fleming said, trying to pull Strickland’s attention back to the matter at hand. “Highly efficient.  _ Ruthless _ precision. Clockwork precision. Infiltration took less than five minutes. My conservative estimate is that this is a strength force of at least ten men.”

 

Several times as he sat there drawing, Giles had been tempted to ask the creature what it’s intentions were with his daughter. 

But he didn’t. 

For one, he thought the creature probably wouldn’t understand the question. Two, he’d have to sign it, and they’d already had one tense moment earlier in the day when creature realized Giles too knew how to sign and gotten a little territorial, like he believed only he and Elisa could use the special hand language. And three, though he was convinced the two were in love, neither of them had actually indicated that it was true. 

Still, he was sure.

Giles moved the charcoal across the page, trying to capture the way the light hit the creature’s scales. He looked up from the drawing, to the magnificent otherworldly creature in front of him. It was so beautiful and mysterious, an ethereal being content to sit in the bathtub picking at a piece of broken tile like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

It was hard to believe that all Elisa had described - where they were keeping him, what they had been doing to him- had been so God-awful and yet this creature was just… sitting here. They had no right to expect anything but anger and hatred from him and instead he had been calm and grateful. 

And the question overcame him.

“Have you always been alone?”

The creature looked towards, blinking with both eyelids.

“Did you ever...have someone?” Giles asked. “Do you know what happened to you? Do you? Because I don’t. I don’t know what happened to me.”

The creature gave the softest little chirrup, his focus on Giles. There was something magnetic about his gaze that drew more words out of him.

“I don’t,” he said, feeling his words catch a little bit in his throat. “I look in the mirror and all I see are these eyes. And this old man’s face.”

Giles sniffed. 

“I see it in Elisa,” he said in a very soft voice because to say it any louder would have made him breakdown in tears. “I’d always figured I’d watch her grow up. But I never thought I’d watch her grow old. And she’s not. I know she’s not. But… but she’s always been alone too. It’s… it hasn’t been an easy thing to watch. You want your children to be happy. I’ve done my best to give her all I could. To give her the most normal and stable upbringing I could. To make sure she’s always felt loved and cared for. But we’re not exactly the most… nuclear of families. We’ve had to hide so much. And I worry she stays close because she’s afraid of those secrets getting out and what it could mean for me.”

Giles closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. When he looked up, there was charcoal smudged across his forehead. He let out a deep sigh.

“You know,” he said, looking the creature right in the eye. “Sometimes I think I was born either too early or too late for my life. Maybe we’re both just relics.”

 

When Fleming had summoned Zelda to follow him a little ways through the night, she had became nervous. But when Zelda began to recognize the route Fleming had been leading her down as the one towards the command center, she became terrified. 

She started saying silent prayers. The Lord’s Prayer, a Hail Mary, the Serenity Prayer. Anything and everything she could think of. 

As she passed underneath it, she opened her eyes just long enough to see the top of Elisa’s headband. Fleming led her up the stairs and she prepared herself for the end. There were graveyard shifters lined up all the way up the staircase. Were they going to watch? She and Elisa getting arrested or… worse? 

Zelda didn’t even want to think about what that ‘worse’ could be.

“Ah. Good,” Strickland said as Fleming lead her inside. “I’m told you’re the only one who can understand her. Is that true?”

Zelda nodded and started breathing again, but wasn’t fully convinced she was safe. 

“Good,” Strickland continued. “I’ve been trying to get answers out of this one for ten minutes and I can’t understand a damn thing- she’s not making any sense. Just gestures. I can’t make hide nor tail of it.”

Zelda glanced sideways at Elisa. 

This had not been the first time she had been called in to interpret like this. But usually, if it had truly been ten minutes of trying to get her point across,  _ both _ parties would be very upset. And Strickland certainly looked tense. 

But Elisa was just standing there, very calm, her face neutral. But not the forced kind of neutral. Just an… at ease sort of neutral. When she had turned at Zelda’s arrival, she gave her a gentle smile. 

“Now,” Strickland said, looking down at the time cards on the table. “You both punched out before the incident. But if you know anything about what transpired here last night, it is your responsibility to report  _ any _ detail, not matter how small or trivial it may be.”

Then he added, like an afterthought, the definition of “trivial.”

“I didn’t see anything, sir,” Zelda said. “You see my feet were hurtin-”

He stepped up closer to Elisa, who just sighed softly and looked up at him. 

“What about you?”

“She didn’t see anything,” Zelda interpreted as Elisa signed. 

He continued to stare at her for a moment before moving on to interrogate them about Dr. Hoffstetler. 

Zelda was surprised at herself for not smacking that grin off Elisa’s face. The girl feigned ignorance a little  _ too  _ well, using her muteness as a shield. All the while giving Strickland one of the most smug smiles Zelda had ever seen.

“What am I doing interviewing the two of you?” Strickland muttered, his back to them. “A janitor. A shit cleaner. And a dumb research assistant.”

He sighed. 

“You two can go.” 

Zelda scurried for the door as fast as she could. But Elisa took her time. 

Usually getting called dumb would make her angry. It was an insult, a slur, meant to belittle her. It was an old-fashioned term for mute that was  becoming synonymous with stupid. 

But today, she did not give a single fuck. 

This man in front of her was desperate. So desperate that he was interviewing people he thought were below him, completely unaware that she, the culprit, hell the  _ mastermind _ behind stealing his precious punching bag was standing right there in front of him. 

The creature was safe,  _ happy  _ and safe at home in her bathtub. 

She had won. 

As she backed up towards the doorway, she decided to show him just how proud she was. She raised a hand.

_ F-U-C-K  _

“What did you say to me?”

Elisa took a deep breath and starting it again, this time much slower.

_ F-U-C-K  _

“What is she saying?

_ Y-O-U _

“I don’t know sir. I didn’t catch it-”

She had started on her next repetition when Strickland kicked the desk and then came at her. 

“ _ WHAT IS SHE SAYING _ ?” 

Elisa took a step backwards, signing “thank you” as she inadvertently backed up into into Zelda’s arms. Before she could do anything, the other woman had grabbed her hands to stop her. 

Both Elisa and Zelda could feel his hot breath on them as they stood. Though Zelda held her hands tight to prevent her from signing anything else, Elisa still smiled smugly, taking pleasure from Strickland’s anger.

Fleming ushered them out again and both Zelda and Elisa made their way back towards T-4. 

Neither knew where the team of researchers had gone, but they didn’t care. Now that the creature had disappeared, they didn’t have any reason to be in the lab. 

Zelda had been in T-4 cleaning when Fleming had summoned her. As the large metal door slid shut behind them upon their return, Zelda took a moment to check that the coast was clear before she turned on Elisa. 

“How  _ dare _ you?” Zelda spat, raising a finger at Elisa. “ _ How dare you _ ? Spelling that out. Talking to him like that. Expecting me to cover your ass when he started figuring it out. No. No. I’m not doing that.”

Elisa as taken aback, too surprised by this sudden change to sign a response. 

“When this whole thing started happening, when T-4 changed over and you ended up glued to my hip, complaining the whole time, I let you. I  _ should’ve  _ reported you, but I didn’t. Because I  _ like _ spending time with you. And when you started doing stuff in here again, I thought ‘good. She should earn her paycheck like the rest of us’,” Zelda said. “But then you stopped showing up to lunch. And then you stopped showing up at the breaks. And then you  _ walked by me _ , and didn’t even notice. And then last night! You got me involved in a-”

Even though they were alone, Zelda still mouthed the words “federal crime” rather than say them.

“You ignored me for  _ weeks _ and then I get dragged into all that and then just now. When you’re having a grand old time mocking him and  _ I _ have to try and explain our way out of it? Did you even  _ know _ that I saved your ass not once but  _ twice _ in that room?”

Elisa shook her head slightly, her eyes not moving from Zelda’s. 

“Well I did. The punch card. I punched you out yesterday. Even though I knew you wouldn’t know. Even though you were up to something or doing something and ignoring, forgetting about me. I did it because I didn’t want you to get in trouble. Because you’re my friend. But now, after all that last night, I need to know. What are we? What. Are. We?” Zelda said, enunciating each word. “Because as I recall, you  _ begged _ me to sit at my table. You  _ begged  _ me to be your friend. And I said no. Because I’d been through it before. Making friends with people only to watch them move on and leave me behind, and I knew if it happened with the other janitors, then it  _ sure _ as hell was gonna happen with you. But you stayed. For fifteen years, you stayed my friend.

“I have always been proud,” she said in a low, shaky voice. “I have been proud to say that my best friend is an Occam research scientist. A  _ white _ Occam research scientist, mind you. Because that just doesn’t happen. Black women and white women don’t become friends. Janitors and scientists don’t become friends. And yet we did. And I started to think that maybe, just  _ maybe _ if the two of us could do it, then so could any of them out there.”

Zelda pointed not out towards the hallway, towards Occam, but up and out, towards the city. Towards the world.

“But I can’t be ignored for weeks and then expected to jump in and protect your ass like that,” Zelda said with a deep breath. “That’s too much energy. Too much worry to put in if I don’t know I’m gonna get anything back. So I need to know if we’re really friends. I need to know if you really give a damn about me, or if I’m just your damn interpreter.”

Zelda’s raised finger fell to her side. She waited, jaw clenched, for Elisa’s reply. 

There was a moment when neither of them moved. 

And then Elisa’s hand twitched. Zelda’s eyes were drawn to it, expecting them to start shaping into an apology or an explanation. 

But instead she raised not just her hands but her arms and wrapped Zelda in a huge hug. And Zelda hugged her back. Tears soaked into both women’s shirts as they squeezed their feelings, their apologies, their words from one into the other through their embrace.

When Elisa pulled away, her face was shiny with tears. 

_ I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you involved _ , she signed.  _ And the more you knew the more trouble you could get in. You are my best friend and I love you so, so much. I couldn’t let you get in trouble.  _

Zelda felt her voice catch in her throat. Elisa hadn’t been ignoring her after all. She had been trying to protect her. She could feel her own hot tears stream down her face.

_ I promise I didn’t mean to hurt you _ , Elisa continued, pausing once mid-sign to wipe her nose on her sleeve.  _ I promise I promise I promise. _

“As- as long as we’re on the same page,” she said, sniffing once more and then wiping her eyes.

Elisa nodded sincerely. 

They took a few more minutes to catch their breath and stifle their tears before Zelda was forced to move on and finish her cleaning. 

Elisa wanted to go with her, to be with her, if for no other reason than to prove her words true. But she couldn’t. Today was not the day to go places she wasn’t supposed to be.

Instead Elisa stayed in T-4.

It was funny, she thought, that only a little more than a month ago, she had spent  _ every  _ night here alone. Wishing for something different. Wishing for something new. And now here she was, alone again, but so much had changed. 

She sat on the ledge of the large pool and peered into the green watery depths. 

It felt like a lifetime ago. The day the researchers arrived. The day when she was so distraught to find them using Dr. Moeller’s sample,  _ her _ sample as the base to create his new home. But now, she thought, it must have been fate. 

She considered what she had told her father a few nights ago. How all she had ever been had led her here. Had led her to him. Everything had been leading up to this very time. 

Maybe it was her reward.  For surviving the bullying and the teasing and the loneliness and the grief and all the studying and fifteen years worth of nights at Occam. All of it led to her here, to existing at the right time and place. So she could meet him.

So he could stare at her not like she was different or stupid or broken, but with awe. Like he could never have imagined someone there had ever been someone so magical or magnificent. Like she was absolutely and completely perfect. 

Like he was in love. 

Elisa felt her face grow hot and she realized she was blushing as she thought about him thinking of her. 

Was he thinking of her now? While she was gone?

Not that it  _ mattered _ , of course. If he did. Or if he didn’t. She just wondered, is all.

She tried to  _ stop _ thinking of him by convincing herself that Occam had developed a mind reading machine that they were going to use to figure out who took the creature and if she thought of him, if she  _ blushed  _ about him, then it would surely trigger their alarms.

But even when Elisa met up with Zelda in the cafeteria for lunch  and then in the locker room as they prepared to go hom, Zelda observed her with the same kind of judgement curiosity she observed graveyard shifters who started gossiping about their new love affairs. 

As they prepared to leave, they found somebody waiting for them.

“Good Lord,” Zelda hissed as Dimitri stepped forward. “What are you doing standing in the shadows of the women’s locker room?”

“They might be watching me and there are no cameras here.”

“For good reason,” Zelda insisted. She looked around concerned, checking to see if anyone else was watching. “What if you had caught us at an inconvenient moment?”

“I had to make sure he was okay,” Dimitri said, ignoring Zelda’s pleas and looking straight to Elisa.

Zelda looked to as Elisa nodded.

“He is,” Zelda confirmed.

“When will you release him?”

Elisa began signing.

“Soon,” Zelda interpreted. “When the rain fills the canal that opens to the sea.”

Dimitri nodded curtly and handed the box of algae he had brought to Elisa.

“Release him,” he instructed. “Soon.”

Elisa nodded again  and then reached out slightly to stop him before he turned around. Dimitri’s brow furrowed for a moment as she began to sign.

“What did she say?” 

Zelda let out a small sigh. 

“She said you’re a good man, Dr. Hoffstetler.”

Something caught in Dimitri’s throat at the sincerity of Elisa’s expression. Her compliment was true.

He clenched his fist, stopping himself from saying what he so desperately wanted to. But then he thought no. These women, and this woman in particular, they had helped free the creature. They recognized the pain it was being caused here and put themselves on the line to help it. 

So, just for a moment, he dropped his carefully constructed walls.

“My name is Dimitri,” he said with a slight bow towards Elis and then to Zelda. “Honored to meet you.”

He saw movement behind them, some other woman in the locker room, and spun on his heel without another word just as the woman called out to them.

“Miss Elisa?” Yolanda asked.  “You’ve got a phone call.”

Both Elisa and Zelda turned. All three were thinking the exact same thing: Elisa didn’t use the phone. So why the hell would someone be calling her?

It should have been obvious that something was wrong, Elisa thought as she sprinted out towards the street less than five minutes later to hail a cab. 

Her father had taught her what to do in the case of emergencies- call somebody for help. Call him, call Andrew, call Grandma. Tap a few times into the mouthpiece so they knew it was her and then answer any questions with two taps for yes and one tap for no. They’d even gone as far as to learn Morse code just in case they needed it. 

Giles insisted that they be prepared and promised that no matter what, no matter where they were or what they were doing, they’d drop everything to come help her. 

And now it was her responsibility to fulfill that promise for him.

She ran up the metal stairs up to the loft apartments, skipping every other one. When she hit the hall, she could see her father’s door open. 

Elisa found him sitting on the floor, his back to the couch, his shirt covered in blood. There were two gashes across the inside of his arm, to which he held a crumpled up paper towel

_ You’re hurt!  _ She signed hurriedly, collapsing to her knees in front of him.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Giles reassured, though his voice was shaky. “He ate Pandora.”

Elisa’s hand flew to her mouth. Pandora was, or she guess now  _ had been _ , her father’s favorite cat.

She wanted to sign, but before she had figured out what to say, her father continued.

“He’s a wild creature,” Giles said in a quiet voice. “We can’t ask him to be anything else.”

Part of her wanted to argue but a bigger part of her, the part that knew he was right, wanted to apologize. Surely they’d need to do something. Surely her father would tell her they had to get rid of him. The creature was too much of a liability. It was too dangerous.

“Go find him.”

The sincerity with which he said this caught Elisa off guard. Before she could sign a reply, he motioned for her to go with his uninjured arm.

“Go.  _ Go. _ ”

She nodded quickly and ran back out down the hallway, down the stairs, and out into the street.

Where was he, where was he,  _ where was he _ ?

Elisa imagined he couldn’t run very well or at least very  _ far _ , but she had just gotten a wake-up call to exactly how much she had been assuming about the creature. And you know what they say about assuming…

She turned towards the theatre box office, and there, on a poster, she saw it. A blood handprint bigger than any man’s. 

She ran forward, and tentatively peered into the box, scared of what she might find. But it was only an usher who was asleep (but not dead… she checked).

Had he gone farther down the street? Had he turned around?

As she asked herself this, she herself spun and saw another handprint. They were leading into the theatre.

Elisa yanked open the large doors and ran in, praying that it was empty. She was terrified it wasn’t, and the creature had come in to a group of moviegoers. How that would end, she didn’t want to know.

But as she spun around the corner and down the aisle, she saw the theatre was blissfully empty. Save for him.

The creature stood, transfixed by  _ The Story of Ruth _ on the huge screen in front of him.

She walked down the aisle in front of his, consciously slowing herself down so as not to startle him.

When she was nearly in front of him, he turned. There was blood around his mouth. The cat’s, she reassured herself. Not her father’s.

Slowly, she reached up a hand and gently tapped him on the pec. His webbed one raised and closed over top of hers.

Elisa smiled, relieved. He was okay. And as long as she could get him back upstairs, he would remain that way.

The creature followed her back upstairs with little problem. He even chirped curiously as she threw her coat over top of him to avoid the suspicion of any passers by.

But as they neared the door to Giles’ apartment, the creature hesitated. She could tell by the tone of his sounds that he was distressed and worried of what punishment might await him inside.

The only thing awaiting him was Giles, who had since moved to the table. 

The creature let out another sad sound and wouldn’t come near him, instead just crouching closer to the couch., his head low, 

Elisa filled a tub with warm water and a little soap and fetched their meager first aid kit from a cabinet.

“I tried to stay awake for as long as I could, but I’m not a young man anymore,” Giles offered with a small shrug. 

Elisa sighed and dabbed iodine on the wound. Her father let out a small hiss at the pain, which seemed to gouge a place right into her own heart.

“Is he okay?”

They both looked to the creature, huddled in the shadows. The cats had started to come out of their hiding places and sniffed at him curiously.

Elisa nodded and picked up the tub to go refresh the water.

Giles looked back to the creature. The cats were now surrounding him, rubbing up against him as he tentatively patted their heads like Elisa had shown him.They seemed drawn to him, despite the fact that one of their own had just… well…

“Okay. No more playing with the kitties. No more kitties,” Giles said.

The creature looked up from the cats. His heart immediately started beating hard as the creature moved towards him.

“I’m not angry! I’m not angry!” he tried to reassure, his voice higher than usual.

The creature came to a halt in front of him, still bent low. 

He reached out a webbed hand and picked up Giles’ hand gently and placed it on top of his scaled head. He then reached out and placed his hand on Giles’ head. 

It felt like a rush of energy somehow moving from the creature’s cool fingers directly into the top of Giles’ bald head. Giles didn’t even realize his eyes were closed until he started to open them and saw little blue pricks of light glow under the creature’s skin.

After a moment, the creature removed his hand and gently turned Giles’ arm over. The gashes were clean now, but they still looked rather bad.

“You did that,” Giles stated. “But it’s okay! I’m not mad!”

The creature carefully closed his webbed hand over the wound.

“Oh no. I don’t think that’s very sanitary-”

The creature looked up at him and let out a brawp as he glowed again. Giles gave him a moment to do whatever it was he was doing, and then gently patted him on the head.

“Enough.”

The creature removed his head and gave another small sound and what looked to Giles like a nod before moving back to his place by the couch just as Elisa returned. Giles was about to ask her to maybe clean it again when she started placing gauze over it.

“Interesting guy.”

She looked up at him and smiled. 

_ Are you sure you’re okay? _ She signed, her smile turning to a look of concern.  _ I think you should go to a hospital. _

“Nah. I’m fine. I told you. It’s just a cut,” Giles said, waving her away. 

_ And you feel okay? _

“Yes, yes, my dear. Just tired. I think I need to get some sleep. And you two should do the same,” he added, nodding to both her and the creature.

Elisa sighed. 

_ Okay. But if you need something, come get me. _

“Okay.”

_ And if it hurts, take some Tylenol _ , she insisted.  _ But no more than two. _

“Yes, doctor.”

She rolled his eyes at his pleased little smile and then looked towards the creature.

The moment her attention fell on him, he straightened up to full height. She extended a hand to him, which he took cautiously. 

Then she turned back to her father. 

_ Goodnight. Love you. _

“I love you too my dear. Goodnight.”

Elisa smiled and turned back to the creature, ready to go. But the creature didn’t turn with her. Instead he raised closed hand to his chest, his attention to Giles.

_ Sorry _ .

“Thank you,” Giles said with a nod. “Goodnight. To you both.”

Elisa grinned and led the creature out of the apartment and into her own. 

She settled him into a kitchen chair and put a few eggs in to boil. 

When she looked back to him, his head was hung low. She placed a hand on his shoulder. He raised his head and let out a sad chirp. She stepped forward a little to make eye contact with him.

_ Are you okay? _ She asked.

He let out another sad chirp and raised a webbed hand. 

_ Not happy. _

Elisa’s heart sank. The creature wasn’t happy here. She had been deluding herself into thinking that this apartment would be better than the lab.

She sat in the chair opposite him.

_ Not happy? _ She repeated back to him. 

The creature nodded. 

_ Not happy. Sorry. Not happy. _

Elisa’s brow furrowed. What did he mean? 

Then he made another low moan and she understood. 

She tapped the table twice to get his attention. 

_ Sad? _ She signed, emphasizing her expression so he could get the meaning.  _ You’re not happy because you’re sad? _

It took the creature a moment but he nodded.

_ Sad. Sorry. Hurt him _ , the creature signed, pointing towards the wall Giles and Elisa shared. 

As fast as it had sank, Elisa’s heart rose again. 

_ He’s okay _ , she assured him.  _ He’s okay.  _

The creature nodded but still made a small sad noise. 

She smiled. She couldn’t help herself. 

The creature looked up at her and slowly started to pick his head up more. Like her smile had comforted him enough that he didn’t have to feel guilty anymore. 

Elisa could have sat there at the table and stared at him all night, but it wasn’t long after their exchange that she started to hear the wheeze of his labored breaths.

She told him to eat his eggs (and then told him not to eat them all at the same time) before leading him back into the bathroom. 

He stepped inside the tub and sank down so he was sitting. Elisa knelt down opposite him and giggled silently as he sank lower to dunk his gills underwater. 

Once he had regained normal breathing, he sat back up. 

Elisa smiled and ran a comforting hand over his shoulder. It twitched and then lit up. 

She felt her mouth open in amazement. She ran a finger over the same spot and it lit up again in a brilliant blue unlike any she had ever seen. 

She tried again, one hand on each shoulder. Her fingers swirled in delight over his glimmering scales. Every time she did it, he seemed to light up more and more. 

But then he lifted his own hand from out of the water and moved it towards her. 

He moved a very gently claw just above her collarbone. It caught for a split second on the collar of her blouse before she felt it touch her skin. 

Immediately, she jerked away out of his reach. She stood up and ran out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her. 

She heard his sad sounds even through the wood. He was worried he had upset her, that she was angry at him. She wanted comfort him, but… not right now. She had to pull herself together first. 

Elisa turned the corner around the bathroom towards her bedroom

It was odd. She’d lived in this apartment for decades and never had been bothered that it was a studio  _ before _ . She rather liked that everything was open and connected. But now she felt so… exposed. Perhaps, she thought, it was because in all the years living here she had never before had a roommate.

It was because he had reaching towards her neck, she thought.  _ That’s _ why she had reacted like she had.  _ No one _ was allowed to touch her neck but her. 

Years of doctor visits for illness, injury, or even just regular check-ups had ended with physicians jerking her head back and forth as they poked and examined  her scars even though they were never the problem she had come in for.

That sounded like a logical explanation to her. She had simply jerked away from him because he was going to touch her neck. Later today, she would go apologize to him and explain the misunderstanding. 

But if that had been her rationalization, if that had been her explanation to herself, then why was she still staring at the floor instead of going to sleep?

Her alarm clock was still in her lap. Her sleep mask was perched on her head. She had changed clothes and sat down on the couch. So why couldn’t she just lay down?

The truth was, whether she cared to admit it or not, was that his touch had felt…  _ good _ . She didn’t mind at all that he was so close to her neck. In fact, she…  _ wanted _ him to touch her neck.

She tried to tell herself it was ridiculous. This whole thing. She had been developing feelings for him like she was in  _ love _ with him. Wondering if he thought about her. Wondering if he liked her. Glowing everytime he signed something. Blushing when he looked at her in that way.

Elisa had a terrible thought. 

What if her running her fingers over his shoulder had… aroused him? He did puff up his gills a little on the second or third time. Like he was showing off to her. And maybe, just  _ maybe _ , he had been trying to touch her to arouse her back.

Elisa let out a deep breath through her nose and set the alarm clock on the table next to her. She slid the sleep mask down over her eyes and raised her arms to shrug off her robe and as soon as she felt her fingers touch the part that  _ he  _ had touched, all she could think of was the feeling of his skin against her own.

She pulled the sleep mask off. There was no way she was getting any sleep tonight. Not when her brain was coming up with cockamamie ideas like that. 

But what if… say, perhaps, he  _ had _ been trying to arouse her…

Did that mean he wanted her? Did it mean that maybe she had been right all along? That their bond was something  _ more _ than just that of two lonely beings who had found a kindred spirit. 

It was that kind of thinking, those kind of words floating through her brain that egged her on. 

He might  _ want  _ her. And not just her body, but  _ her _ . Every part of her, exactly as she was. 

He had interest in  _ her.  _ He liked  _ her _ . He loved  _ her _ . 

He wanted  _ her _ . 

And if the dull throbbing down below that had started when she imagined him touching her skin was any indication, she might want him too. 

But she wouldn’t, she thought. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t, she wouldn’t, she wouldn’t.

Her eyes flicked to the door. 

She would. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (spoiler alert... they fuck)
> 
> I'm not writing that part though, so I'm very sorry if you were hoping for that. But I gave you a couple missing scenes, some Elisasset cuteness, and an in-depth look at Elisa's thought process. I hope that will suffice. 
> 
> Because you all were begging for some more of them together, I made sure to include that (and also Giles and myself totally ship it, so of course I wanted to write more). But it was also improtant to me that I include a scene between Zelda and Elisa too following the events of the escape. 
> 
> It goes deeper into it in the book, but essentially when the creature arrives in T-4, Elisa kind of abandons Zelda. Now partly, this is because she doesn't want Zelda involved in the escape should things go south, but also because she's spending all her time with the creature. Now Zelda is the ultimate ride-or-die friend, but she still deserves to tell Elisa how she feels. The scene in the book (of which I won't include detail because spoilers) is wonderful, but in this AU especially, the dynamic they share is different. A little bit more complex.
> 
> I can't believe we are so close to the end. Like I'm writing this on my handy dandy Google doc (which is up to 211 pages total including parts of additional chapters) and I can actually see the end of the document. I'm that close. Only a little bit more left. Truthfully, it'll probably be like another ten thousand words or so. We're past 'official' novel-length now, so it's officially the longest thing I've ever written. I hope you continue to enjoy reading it as much as I continue to enjoy writing it.
> 
> Three chapters to go! And then probably a verrrrry long author's note at the end where I point out all the things I snuck in that nobody seemed to notice as well as comments on how I got to some of the things I wrote. Most have been covered in the notes with each chapter, but there's some things that will make more sense later on...
> 
> Thank you so, so much. Have a great day, wherever you may be, and stay tuned!


	18. Chapter 18

Had the bus ride always been this beautiful and she had just never noticed before?

Had the yellow sodium lights outside of the window always cast such a magical glow against the metal of the scaffolds as she passed downtown? Had the river off in the distance always had that lustrous sheen? Had the rain outside of the window always fallen with the glint of diamonds?

No, she thought. This was different. This was how the world was supposed to be, how it was supposed to look.  _ This _ was how it was when you had finally felt everything everyone had promised you life would feel like.

It had been, in a word, spectacular. The creature was… well equipped. 

But it was not just like her morning bathtub routines. It was that pleasure, but… electric. Like the closeness they had felt, the way they had connected, had created an electric grid. An electric grid amplified by water. 

Elisa had been right. 

The creature had  _ wanted  _ her. He made it clear with every touch, with every motion. What they were doing was between them and only them. It had been specifically created at that moment in time for the two of them. Like two tributaries meant to flow together that had been dammed up for so long but had finally been released and able to flow as one.

She scooted closer to the bus window.

Rain had finally come to Baltimore after a near-record drought. 

It should be an omen, she knew. The beginning of the end. 

And yet, it did not bother her one bit. 

She traced her fingers along the window and watched as the droplets seemed to dance at her touch. She knew the creature could move through water nearly soundlessly when he wanted to and that it always seemed to bend to his will. 

Perhaps, she thought, their closeness, their  _ rendezvous _ had transferred some of that power to her. 

Just the idea made her feel powerful. Like finding him had changed her into an Amazonian fish goddess. Still very much herself but so much better too.

This feeling of power increased even more after seeing that the MPs and Fleming dashing back and forth, still trying to get things back to normal.

Lab T-4 was still vacant as their star specimen was still missing. Disappeared into the night. Except for cursing Strickland out and her and Zelda’s exchange, Elisa had spent the previous night sitting at the edge of the pool, thinking of the creature.

But tonight Elisa was so high that the very thought of sitting down felt heavy and there was no way she was going to make herself even try. 

Instead she pulled her little radio out of her purse and set it on the ledge of the pool out of sheer force of habit. She tuned it and began waltzing around, her eyes closed, her hands raised as she imagined him dancing with her. 

“What in God’s name are you doing?” she heard a voice ask from behind her.

Elisa spun around to find Zelda standing next to her cart in the middle of the room. She had been so lost in her daydream, she hadn’t even noticed the sound of the buzzer or the door sliding open.

“Why are you smiling, hon?”

Elisa gave a small shake of her head, but was unable to completely hide her smirk. Zelda narrowed her eyes. 

“Stop lookin’’ like that,” Zelda said suspiciously. “What happened?”

Elisa shrugged and gave another small shake of her head, but her smile betrayed her. 

There was a moment’s pause as Zelda considered her before her mouth fell open.

“ _ Why? _ ” Zelda said, before holding up a hand.  _ “How? _ ”

Elisa smiled even more broadly. 

Zelda stepped closer to her, even though they were alone, and dropped her voice. 

“Does he have a..” she asked, motioning downstairs. 

Elisa nodded and raised her hands, first closed, then open, and then something  _ very _ clear coming down.

Zelda repeated the gestures and then shook her head. 

“Never trust a man,” she chuckled. “Even when he looks  _ flat _ down there.”

Elisa smiled again and Zelda gave her a little congratulatory pat on the arm. 

Inside, Zelda knew she should be revolted, or at the very least a little disturbed. But Elisa’s joy was palpable. To say anything, to  _ think _ anything different would have crushed what little happiness there was to feel around the dark foreboding facility.

Besides, her best friend had been single and lonely every damn day Zelda had know her. If the creature was kind, gentle, and a good lover, well , Zelda figured, there were worse men Elisa could have brought home from Occam.

That being said though, she could have done without Elisa telling her the creature ate her cat. That was a little candid, even for best friends.

 

Mamushka had always told him that good men always had a strong crease in their pants. Any man could iron a shirt, she would say, but it takes a special man to iron pants.

That was why Dimitri stood in his boxers, cigarette dangling from his mouth, as he carefully moved an iron back and forth over his trousers. 

He didn’t believe her words to be true anymore. After all, when he had gotten old enough to iron his own clothes, he found shirts, with their buttons and their collars, to be far more difficult to iron than pants. But it was something small to connect him back to her, and he would do anything to keep that little connection alive. 

At least for a few more days. Then Mihalkov's extraction papers would be ready, and he would finally get to go home.  _ Home.  _ Back to Minsk. Back to his childhood house. Back to his parents.

There was a knock at the door. 

Dimitri looked up. He set the iron down, stubbed out the cigarette, and glanced at his watch.They were early. 

As he opened the door, they had exchanged curt greetings and Dimitri had poured tea and offered them a slice of butter cake. The driver accepted (as Dimitri expected he would), but Mihalkov declined

“The asset… after you injected it,” Mihalkov started in Russian after a long drag on his cigarette. “What did you do with the corpse?”

Dimitri sliced the cake and carefully set the piece on a readied plate. Quietly, and without notice, he wiped off the knife and slid it up his shirt sleeve.

“I performed an autopsy,” Dimitri answered, setting down the plate in front of the driver. “Unenlightening. As Lenin said, there’s no profit in last week’s fish.”

Mihalkov snorted. 

“Lenin said that?” he laughed. “ _ Lenin _ ?”

Dimitri mustered the most convincing laugh he could, as Mihalkov chuckled. But the moment was ruined as the driver complemented the cake and asked for milk. It seemed Mihalkov had suddenly decided their visit had gone on for too long.

He stood up and grabbed his hat. The driver followed suit, but not before tucking the rest of his piece of cake into a napkin.

Mihalkov approached Dimitri. Dimitri gripped the butter knife firmly behind his back, though the rational voice in his head told him that it would do little good against Mihalkov’s Beretta.

“Perhaps,” Mihalkov said slowly. “You are misremembering.”

They stared at each other for a moment, waiting for the other to make the first move or at the very least say something. Dimitri considered how it was much like the children’s game of chicken, but with far worse consequences than falling into a pool.

“Wait for our call.”

Mihalkov and the driver stepped out into the hall and Dimitri’s grip on the knife loosened. 

The call. All he had to do was wait for the call. One phone call and he would finally be a free man.

 

When Elisa unlocked her front door (having learned her lesson the night before), she was surprised to find the creature not in the bathtub but staring intently at the wall of her living room.

She followed his line of sight to the framed photos on the wall.

Photography had been Andrew’s hobby, much to Giles’ chagrin. Andrew had gotten past this by reminding Giles that he had loved cameras long before he loved Giles.

As Andrew was always the one behind the camera, most of the photos he took were of his daughter and lover. Giles refused to use the camera, saying it was against his artistic integrity. That meant the few pictures of Andrew that existed had all been taken by her. 

The fact that it had been Andrew most often behind the camera also meant that after he died, they stopped taking pictures. She was fairly certain that the only picture of her taken as an adult (other than her Occam ID card) was the day she graduated college. And that had been taken in Andrew’s honor as neither she nor Giles had gotten to attend, let alone take pictures at, her first graduation ceremony.

This was the picture the creature was currently looking at.

She walked up to him and set a hand on his shoulder, waiting for his chirped greeting. He did so as expected and she immediately wrapped her arms around him in a big bear hug. He chirped happily, if a little confused, and tried to return the gesture. As he patted her back tentatively twice and Elisa laughed as she wondered if he was thinking about petting the cats. 

He then turned his attention back to the photo. He tapped the glass with his claw and then pointed to her. 

Elisa nodded. She then raised her hands like she was looking through a camera.

_ Photo. _

The creature chirped in and repeated the sign back to her. 

He turned his head to look at the next photo. 

It was one from a family trip when Elisa was in early high school. Alone on their own private strip of the beach, Giles and Andrew showed affection openly in a way they never could in public. Elisa had managed to get ahold of the camera at one point and snapped a candid shot of Giles kissing Andrew on the cheek while Andrew laughed.

He then tapped the part of the photo featuring Giles and pointed to the wall their apartments shared. She nodded again. But when he looked back at it once more, he cocked his head slightly and tapped the picture of Andrew.

_ My dad _ , Elisa signed. 

The creature immediately looked back at the photo then to the shared wall and back to her. He cocked his head again and made a confused sound. She smiled weakly. 

_ Two dads,  _ she signed, pointing to both of them in the photo and doing the sign in between. 

The creature raised on index finger and moved it back and forth sideways to sign “where?”

Elisa let out a deep breath. 

She had intentionally not taught the creature the sign for die. 

She didn’t want to scare or worry him prior to the escape, especially because if he got angry and attacked anyone else, they would most definitely have killed him. And once he was home safe with her in the apartment, there was no point right? He knew that death existed. He had even  _ killed _ . Why should she teach him the sign for it? It wasn’t important. 

But she knew she was being irrational and that refusing to teach him that specific sign had nothing to do with anything but her own dread. That to teach him the sign would create a self-fulfilling prophecy. Or rather a prophecy she considered self-fulfilling but may already be in motion.

So instead, Elisa simply signed “gone”. She tried to smile again, but the creature was not convinced. He could read her emotions like a book, and there was too much sadness in her eyes for the sign to mean the man had simply left. 

Elisa feared she might have to go ahead and teach him the sign after all when she heard him start to wheeze and immediately started to turn him in the direction of the bathroom. 

But the creature wouldn’t budge.

He kept looking at the photo. 

What was he thinking? Would he wonder why it’s two men? Would he even have a concept of whether that was typical or not?

The creature turned to look at her. He then bent his head down towards her. 

Was he going to kiss her? She would gladly kiss him back, but she had learned last night that kissing wasn’t exact second nature to him. 

He turned his neck slightly and looked back towards the photo. He shuffled a step to his right and then he moved his face forward until it was an inch from her cheek. 

He didn’t exactly kiss her on the cheek. He sort of just bumped his mouth against her cheek. But she giggled silently nonetheless.

The picture had made her sad, though he could tell it was not supposed to be sad. The men in the photo were happy. They were happy and in love. He just wanted to remind her of that happiness and love. To reenact that frozen moment in time to remind her of her own happiness and love in  _ this _ moment.

He pulled his head away and looked to her for a reaction. She smiled broadly, which made him chirp happily, relieved that he had done it right.

As nice as this little moment was though, it didn’t stop him from wheezing. So Elisa stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek back and then pointed towards the bathroom.

He slowly ambled his way there as Elisa slipped out of her professional outfit and into her robe.

She had slipped a few tools out of T-4 before she left that night. A thermometer, a hydrometer, a measuring tape. Things she could slip into her pocket and out of the building beneath notice. 

Elisa had told herself that when she filled the tub this time, she would definitely make sure she measured out the salt first to achieve correct salinity. The creature watched her curiously as she knelt next to the tub. She unfurled the tape measure and started measuring the dimensions of the tub so she could calculate its volume. 

She suddenly became uncomfortable as she did so. The worry that he equated her to all the other Occam scientists had still lingered in the back of her head. Would seeing her do this here at home make him angry?

But the creature didn’t seem to think this. He just chirped curiously at her as she marked down measurements and did a little math. 

_ I’m making the water good for you _ , she explained as she held out the paper and picked up the salt.

But when she looked down at the total volume, Elisa’s heart clenched uncomfortably. The tub was only about 50 gallons or 100 liters filled up to the brim. The creature deserved a lake, a river, an  _ ocean _ . And all she could give him was this tiny little bathtub.

Elisa sighed as she started running the water. She carefully measured out the correct amount of salt to add to achieve the prescribed salinity, and then picked up the box of algae.

Then she had a very interesting thought. 

Perhaps she could make a little bit bigger of a pool for him. 

The creature watched her, interested, as she started pulling towels off of the rack and shoving them under the door. Then she turned on the water faucets from both the tub and the sink at full blast. 

The creature was quite confused by this (mostly because she had sternly reprimanded him before about letting the water run), but she seemed happy so he was happy. 

She turned to him, her eyes glinting, as water poured over the sink and bathtub.

_ You… and me… together _ , she signed before dropping her robe.

 

The alarm clock went off on the bed stand beside Giles. He reached his hand out without opening his eyes to turn it off.

Groaning, Giles sat up. One of the cats was near his feet. He could feel the fur tickle his toes as he slipped his feet into his slippers. 

Something was wrong with his glasses. They were blurry. That couldn’t be right. He had just gotten new ones not too long ago. They couldn’t be this incorrect already. 

Giles slide the glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes, he was looking right as his reflection. Clear as day.

He looked down to the glasses in his hand and then back up to his face. What the hell?

He looked closer at the mirror. There on the top of his head… how the hell did he miss it? 

He had a full head of hair, right there on the top of his head. Right where the bald patch had been just last night. 

Giles ran his hand through it and tugged. It pulled at his scalp. It was hair,  _ his _ hair. And there was more too. He stepped closer to the mirror. 

Was it him or did he look… younger? Still an older man but at least ten years younger. How? How had this happened?

Giles looked down to the bandage taped to his arm and ripped it off. There was no scratch, no cut, not even a scar. He rubbed his hand over the skin. Completely unblemished. And his elbow didn’t ache with arthritis like it usually did when he got up in the morning. Nor did any part of his body ache for that matter. 

He looked ten years younger but he felt twenty. Thirty. Maybe even  _ forty _ . Like when he was fresh out of the Navy. Or art school. Before he moved to Baltimore or found Elisa or Andrew.

Oh, Andrew. Giles didn’t have this much hair even back when he first met Andrew. 

He imagined what Andrew might say if he saw him like this. He’d probably make some stupid joke about Giles landing himself in a  _ hairy _ situation before running his fingers through it. Maybe even digging his fingernails in a tiny bit…

Giles felt something surging down below and looked down. 

He was standing at attention. Fully,  _ completely _ . He hadn’t been this… erect in years (and definitely not from a lack of trying). 

Somebody pounded on the door and Giles immediately felt his face grow hot as he rushed to grab a pillow off the couch. Elisa couldn’t see him like  _ this _ . He was her  _ father _ for God’s sake. 

“Giles!” a man’s voice called from outside the door. 

Giles pulled the door open to find Mr. Arzoumanian pounding on Elisa’s door as water poured out the bottom.

“What is going on? I’ve got water pouring into my theater!” the landlord said sternly. “I’ve got four paying customers. I can’t afford a refund!”

“It’s probably just a pipe,” Giles assured. “I’ll take care of it.”

“You take care of it or no more rental!” Mr. Arzoumanian spat. 

As the landlord stormed away, Giles fumbled for the key to Elisa’s apartment that he kept on a hook just inside his door. 

When he got it open, Elisa was nowhere to be found, but the bathroom door was shut with water spraying from all sides. 

Oh dear Lord. What had she done?

“Elisa? Elisa?” he called out. 

He tried to sidestep the water streaming across the floor but there was so much of it, it was nigh on impossible. 

He finally made it to the door, his pajamas now soaking wet and yanked the door handle. 

Giles just managed to step back as an entire bathroom’s worth of water flooded out. 

And there they were. Elisa, soaking wet, embraced by the creature who glowed a brilliant blue. He had his back to Giles, blocking most of Elisa from view (which was good because she was nude). 

All Giles could see was her face. They made eye contact and she smirked, before closing her eyes and leaning into the creature. 

Giles slowly closed the door, leaving them to have their moment together. 

Their moment together lasted longer than he expected. 

It was nearly an hour before Elisa came back in to his apartment in a fresh robe, having dried herself as well as half the apartment off.

Giles couldn’t really even be mad. There was too much to be happy about. 

“I knew, hunny,” Giles said, wagging a finger at her playfully. “I knew there was something going on between you two. I could tell.”

To Giles surprise, she blushed slightly.

_ You’re not mad? _ she signed, suddenly bashful. 

“Of course not. My dear, as long as he loves you and treats you well, you shouldn’t expect any problems from me,” he said, smiling. “Besides. I already showed him your baby pictures and gave him ‘the talk’, so I’ve done all that’s expected of me.”

Elisa stared wide-eyed, unsure if he was kidding. Giles chuckled and took her hand.

“I’m kidding my dear. Just kidding. He’s a nice fellow. No need for the talk,” he assured her. “And anyways, the album with the baby pictures is buried really deep on the shelves. Too hard to get. Though I might still have a few in my wallet…”

Giles turned his head towards his bed stand, like he was actually going to go check for pictures to show the creature, when Elisa immediately put a patted a restraining hand on his and shook her head ever so slightly. Giles was about to make a comment when he remembered the towel in his hand.

“Look! I was toweling my hair.  _ My  _ hair. And look at my arm,” he said excitedly, showing her the fresh skin. “Nothing. Like it was never there. You said he was worshipped as a god. Now is he a god? I don’t know. He ate a cat. But we’ve gotta keep him around.”

Giles looked at Elisa, who cupped her father’s cheek gently with her hand. 

“Just a little while?” GIles added.

Elisa gave him a small smile and nodded.

But that nod was a lie. 

It was not lost on her that the creature had started to wheeze when out of the water after a shorter amount of time every time he got out of the tub and that getting him back into the water was not necessarily helping him.

The Baltimore City Water was slowly killing him. It didn’t matter how carefully she measured the salinity or put the correct amount of algae in. He wasn’t meant to stay here this long, or any time at all really, in a bathtub filled with unfiltered tap water. And every moment she kept him here, she was contributing to the death she so feared he would suffer.

Elisa caught the creature at the window, looking out at the falling rain. His eyes looked tired and his breathing sounded pained even though he had just gotten up from the water. His expression was wistful, like he wished he could be out there in the rain instead of here in the damp musty apartment. 

She ran a hand over his shoulder. Something scratched at her hand and she turned it over to find her palm covered in his scales. 

When she returned later to Occam, she spent the whole night searching up and down the lab for anything,  _ anything  _ that prevent the inevitable. Elisa didn’t even care if it would get her caught. She did not give a single fuck if they suspected or questioned her or arrested her. If there was anything that could help him, she was going to get it and bring it back. 

But her search was fruitless. And to make it worse, the rain had begun to feel like an omen after all. 

She passed by the canal dock on her way home. The water had nearly reached the thirty foot mark. It was ready to open. Her calendar informed her that it was October 10th, the very day she had predicted would be day of the creature’s release.

Elisa turned over the ripped off piece of paper to read the daily thought.

_ Life is but the shipwreck of our plans. _

Ain’t that the truth.

The creature chirped and Elisa looked up.

He indicated to the plate or hard boiled eggs she had just placed in front of him and then raised his hands.

_ Egg. _

She gave him a small smile and nodded, but inside it was just another crack in her already-fractured heart. 

He had come so far. He knew so many signs and he wanted to learn so many more. He paid such close attention to everything she had to say. And he wanted to learn so she could pay attention to what  _ he  _ had to say. They connected, communicated, better than anyone Elisa had ever known. Even her fathers. With him, it was more than just signing. Their connection was beyond words, even signed ones.

From their first meeting in the lab when she had been so scared of what she might do to her for being one of the research scientists and he had been so scared of what she might do to him. To just earlier tonight when they danced through the water, making love underwater in what felt to Elisa like just the way love was meant to be made. 

And now he had to leave. 

Elisa looked up to him and allowed, just for a moment, her imagination to take control.

For a moment, they weren’t a dying fish creature and a homely lonely woman sitting in her old, rundown apartment with cracks in the walls and leaks in the roof. They were beautiful lovers in a lavish Broadway musical or glorious Hollywood film.

She imagined them first as Tony and Maria in  _ West Side Story _ , singing “Tonight” on the balcony. But that wasn’t quite right. Tony died at the end, leaving Maria alone to mourn him. That was too close to reality to be a decent fantasy. 

She then imagined them next as Guinevere and Lancelot in  _ Camelot _ , singing “If Ever I Were to Leave You”, or maybe even more aptly “I Loved You Once in Silence”. But that wasn’t right either. Neither died, but they grew apart and Camelot fell, shattering the beautiful image of a perfect society (not unlike how America’s mythical idea of Camelot would fall less than a month later when it’s King Arthur was shot while riding in a motorcade through Dallas).

Dammit, she thought. Why were musicals so damn depressing?

Elisa took a breath and tried to imagine a happier musical. 

One with a beautiful set under a sparkling night sky. She was in a sparkling dress that glittered with every step she took, her arms in long satin gloves _.  _ And her voice was loud and strong and she sang every note to Alice Faye’s “You’ll Never Know”, a veritable Ginger Rogers dancing and spinning with her own aquatic Fred Astaire. 

Elisa indulged this fantasy for a moment before opening her eyes. 

Her hands were raised. She must have been signing the song, moving her lips with the words, as the scene unfolded in her head. When she opened her eyes, the music cut off in the middle of a line. 

The creature was watching her closely. He looked a little confused, but he was still engrossed. 

There was no use in finishing the song, Elisa thought. He wouldn’t understand any of the signs and it wasn’t like she could sing it with her voice instead of her hands. So what was the point if he didn’t understand?

The lyrics pressed at her, spinning through her head, tangling the beauty of the words with the questions weighing on her heart.

_ You'll never know just how much I miss you… _ Was she ever going to be the same after he was gone?

_ You'll never know just how much I care…  _ Would anything in her life be worth caring about once he had left it?

_ And if I tried, I still couldn't hide my love for you _ ... How would she, hell, how  _ could  _ she ever try to fall in love again after him?

_You ought to know, for haven't I told you so_ _a million or more times?..._ Had she shown him enough love to leave lasting impression?

_ You went away and my heart went with you _ … Was she just another human in his life or would he miss her once he was safe far away from here? 

_ I speak your name in every prayer _ … How could she ever believe in anything after something so magical had come into her life and then been forced to leave?

_ If there is some other way to prove that I love you _ … Was there anything else she could possibly do to show him how much he mattered to her?

Elisa was running out of time, out of chances to share her love with and for him. 

So she took a deep breath and continued. 

_ I swear I don’t know how _ , she signed, biting her lip so hard she could taste blood.  _ You’ll never know if you don’t know now _ .

Every sign she made cleaved her heart even further. But something prevented it from shattering. 

Hope? Denial? Foolishness? Elisa didn’t know.

All she knew was that the end was near.  

 

Zelda closed her locker and turned to leave when she heard quiet sniffling.

She peeked around the corner and saw Elisa in her bright red coat, crying in the shadows. 

“Elisa?” she asked cautiously. “What is it?” 

Zelda took a seat on the bench beside her.

Her heart hurt. She had never seen Elisa so heartbroken. Her expressive face gave away every tiny bit of her anguish.

Elisa’s hand twitched and Zelda waited for a signed answer, but instead Elisa just laid her hand against Zelda’s lapel. If her face gave away her anguish, her touch gave away her desperation.

They rode the bus with together to the loft apartments.

To Zelda, every step up the metal stairs and down the hallway felt like it took a lifetime.

They found the creature lying in the tub sideways, wheezing blood into the bathwater. 

Zelda ran a hand over his shoulder and pulled away scales. She looked back to Elisa. 

“This isn’t good,” she stated in concerned tone. “I’m going to call Dr. Hoffstetler. He gave me a card…”

Zelda got up and started making her way out towards the hallway. 

“You gotta release him tonight, hunny,” she said as she passed by Elisa and then past Giles, who was standing just outside the bathroom door. “I’ll come back and help you.”

Zelda disappeared out into the hall. 

Elisa looked at her father. 

She had spent a lifetime communicating nonverbally. She signed and she gestured, but nothing ever seemed to speak as loud to others as her body language. 

So when her father stood before her, his arms crossed, his eyes full of despair and pain, she found his deafening. 

It was time to let the creature go.

And that one fact was all that was necessary to finally shatter her heart for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like in the last chapter, I ask that you forgive me for skipping some scenes as I wanted to give you more Elisasset cuteness. This time I hope it's easier to forgive than the last chapter as it would have been Strickland's POV and honestly who cares about him?
> 
> I would also like to point out that I mentioned the song "I Loved You Once in Silence" from  _Camelot_ because I mean, come on, but then I actually listened to the song and wow it kind of fits this point in the movie perfectly. Seriously. Here. [Listen to it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KNLMNqNlDfE) or at the very least [look at the lyrics](https://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/camelot/ilovedyouonceinsilence.htm) and tell me I'm wrong. 
> 
> As for the story, I have a few things to say: 
> 
> 1) I'm not much of an artist but I did draw a scene from Chapter 16 after I posted it last week because I liked the image in my head too much. If you want to take a look, it's on my [Tumblr](http://bwayfan25.tumblr.com/post/172258799164/fishboi-is-a-good-fish-who-does-what-he-is-told). I'm debating posting a couple more of the sketches I've made with dialogue/scenes from the story, but probably not until after the end. If I do, I'm going to tag it 'tsow lost and found'. In case you guys are at all interested. 
> 
> 2) When I said there might be another 10,000 words left in the whole thing, I was apparently lying. I did some math and worked up an estimate and we're probably going to hit at least 90,000 (if not 100,000) words before it's done. So yeah. Officially the longest thing I've ever written. Can't believe it. Seriously. 
> 
> 3) Per number 2- the fact that you guys have stuck with this story (and with me) for so long is absolutely incredible to me and I'm not just saying that. You guys are absolutely amazing and I appreciate you so much.
> 
> 3) I will be posting both Chapters 19 and 20 together, so it might be a bit longer until the next update. I've been averaging about one chapter a week, sometimes two if I can. But these are extra important and both will probably be very long. But then we're done. 
> 
> I only hope I can do you, the movie, the book, and this story justice. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this and for your comments and for everything. Also Happy Easter if you celebrate that or Happy Passover if you celebrate that or otherwise Happy Sunday!
> 
> I'll talk to you again at the very, very end... 2 chapters to go!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 19 contains some violence and gore. You all have seen the last half hour of the movie. I don't have to tell you what happens (but this chapter's going to anyways).

Fleming knew that Strickland was a former military man. 

He had been one too. They’d both served their countries, had fought overseas. Though in different branches and serving at different times, Fleming knew that they both shared that in common.  

So how the smell of Strickland’s fingers did not seem to remind the hardened colonel next to him of the smell of decay and death on the battlefield, Fleming did not know.

“Sir? If you don’t mind me saying so,” Fleming started slowly. “You don’t look too well.”

“Shut up.”

“Sir, do you smell that?” Fleming tried again. “I think it might be your fingers...They’re, they’re black, sir.”

Strickland ignored him, instead looking through the binoculars towards the building Dr. Robert Hoffstetler was exiting, shielded from the rain under an umbrella.

“There he is. Doctor fucking shitbird,” Strickland spat.

Fleming flinched. 

“There’s no call for the cursing, sir.”

Strickland pulled the binoculars away from his face and turned to Fleming.

“Get out of the car. I’m taking it,” he ordered.

Fleming was bewildered.

“My car?”

“Get the fuck out. I’m taking it.”

“Out of my car?”

Strickland looked right at him.

“Did I stutter?”

Fleming’s hand automatically went to the door handle, but then he pulled it away. Not even a recommendation to General Hoyt, not even a job at the  _ Pentagon _ was worth this. 

“No. Not doing it,” Fleming stated with more confidence than he felt. 

Strickland raised an eyebrow.

“Come again?”

“I won’t do it,” Fleming repeated. “I’ve done surveillance… Unauthorized surveillance, mind you, and I just- I have to call this in. Report it. You are an imposing man but… but… I draw the line here. We go back. We go back and let central know what you’re doing. We do the paperwork and we file the authorization and allocate the resources. Then and  _ only _ then will you get a car in order to follow Dr. Hoffstetler. And  _ not _ my car.”

Fleming did not see Strickland reach for his gun until it was too late to do anything. 

Strickland shot him twice. Once in the gut and once straight through the head. Point blank. 

“You never shut up,” he informed Fleming’s bleeding corpse. “Silence. I just fucking need silence.”

Out the window, he could see the cab that Hoffstetler had climbed into pull away down the street. He reholstered his sidearm and threw the car into gear. 

The pain pills had started to kick in. The blinding, searing sensation in his hand was started to neutralize. He had grown too used to the pills for them to completely take the pain away. But this was good enough, though he feared that he might never be able to stop taking them. He wouldn’t care so much if he could take a fucking shit. 

It wouldn’t matter though, he told himself, if he didn’t finish the job within Hoyt’s thirty-six hour time frame. After that there would be no use for pain pills. Granted, there would be no pain either, but only because he’d be dead. 

He’d rather never take a shit again than that.

 

Dimitri puffed on his cigarette underneath the shelter of his umbrella.

For the city having been in one of its worst droughts in its history only a little more than a month ago when he had arrived, he considered it almost incredible for the rain to be falling this hard. 

And so angrily, he thought before chuckled at himself.

He was a man of science and therefore was not prone to exaggeration or metaphors or any sort of showy turns of phrase. But today, the rain could be angry or sad or whatever the hell it wanted to be. 

He’d received the call two days ago and was here on this stupid concrete block about to be released from his service as a spy. Mihalkov was on his way now. Any minute now would be his last. The rush it gave him, the thought of stepping foot back in Minsk, was positively  _ euphoric _ .

Bright yellow headlights slowly shined on him as the car turned and pulled up to its parking place. Dimitri’s mind, allowing itself to be creative and flashy, imagine it was like a lighthouse light turning as it guided him back home.

The windshield wipers moved back and forth as the car flashed its lights a few times. Dimitri replied with a few flashes of a flashlight he had brought with him.

He could just make out the outline of the burly driver climb out car through the dim light under the awning. The driver took a step forward into the light, leaving the passenger door to the car open behind him.

Strange, Dimitri thought. Shouldn’t he be driving?

“It’s raining like hell, isn’t it?” Dimitri said greeted pleasantly in Russian, his bright smile in stark contrast to the other man’s face hidden in the shadows of his hat.

The other man said nothing.

“No password today?” Dimitri asked confused. 

But before he could even get the entire phrase out, the driver raised his gun and fired. 

The bullet tore through his left shoulder and then another lodged itself in his gut. Dimitri froze in shock just as another bullet ripped through his cheek. 

Blood poured into his mouth as the force of the shot spun him. He slipped on the wet sand. His glasses flew from his face, leaving his vision terribly blurry. 

Even without glasses though, he could still see the driver approaching slowly, gun raised, ready to extract him not from the country but from this mortal coil.

“No! No! Comrade,” Dimitri shouted, one hand to his bleeding cheek as he struggled to get away.

The driver collapsed sideways less than a second after another shot rang out. Then two more from off in the distance and a moment later another, like the person firing wanted to put another bullet through the victim’s head just for good measure.

An imposing figure in a dark coat knelt in front of him. Dimitri couldn’t see the face of the person without his glasses on, and even if he had them, the pain from his wounds was rapidly increasing, clouding what vision remained. 

“Nyet. Nyet,” he said weakly.

The figure held up his glasses and he put them on. His heart seized in horror.

“Strickland thank God!” he managed to say. 

“You were speaking Russian.  _ Bob _ .”

Before Dimitri could try to explain his actions, Strickland slipped a finger through the hole in his cheek and started dragging him.

The pain was unlike anything Dimitri could imagine. It felt like Strickland was literally ripping his face in two, and he very well might have been. The pain was so searing that it felt like his mind had completely stopped, unable to process anything but its own pain receptors.

Strickland threw him against a pile of sand. It was not a soft landing, what with the sand thoroughly soaked by the rain. Suddenly, Dimitri was reminded of his other wounds. 

“What’s your name?” Strickland asked. 

“Hoffstetler,” Dimitri moaned. 

“Oh no. Don’t lie. You don’t need to,” Strickland said, almost informing him. “You took a bullet to the gut. You’re dead.”

As if to remind him of this fact, Strickland placed the electric cattle prod he used against the Devonian to the wound in his stomach for a hot second before using the prod to lift his chin so Dimitri was looking right at him.

“I need the names, ranks, and locations of the entire strike team.”

“Strike team?” Dimitri said slowly.

“THE ONES WHO TOOK THE ASSET,” Strickland yelled before plunging his Alabama Howdy-Doo into Dimitri’s chest and pushing the button.

10,000 volts, if not more, surged through every cell of Dimitri’s body. His brain was on fire, the electricity crackling through it amplifying the excruciating pain already growing throughout the rest of his body. He could hear himself yelling but as if it was he was far away. 

When the shock let up, Dimitri moaned. His breath felt labored. 

Strickland got up and turned. Though the sound of the blood rushing against his ears, he could hear the sound of Strickland pulling out a box of candy out of his coat pocket.

“This candy. It’s cheap candy, but I love it. Ever since I was a kid,” Strickland said casually as if he hadn’t just been torturing Dimitri a moment prior. “Some favor more sophisticated snacks with a nougat center and all that… foo foo shit. But not me Bob. This is it for me.”

Strickland held up a piece of the bright green candy in between his fingers, but Dimitri couldn’t see it, nor was he bothered to try. 

Strickland put the candy in his mouth and turned back towards Hoffstetler.

“Now sometimes when I’m feeling anxious, I bite right into it. But mostly I take my time. I make it last.”

Strickland leaned down and shoved a finger into the bullet hole in Dimitri’s stomach. Dimitri screamed but he was half gagged by blood. 

“NAMES. RANKS. LOCATIONS.”

Dimitri wanted to sob but instead he laughed. 

Because it was a farce. The whole thing. 

The idea that the Devonian would be safe with the research assistant. That she could release him without getting caught. The idea that the KGB would let him actually go home to Minsk. That fact that Strickland thought a Russian Special Forces team had stolen his precious Asset.

So he laughed.

If he had to die here on this sand plot at the hands of his comrades and now at this man, he was going to die laughing. Laughing in his face.

“Names. Ranks.  _ NOW _ ,” Strickland ordered, shoving his hand in to the wound harder. 

“No names… no ranks...they’re just assigned there,” Dimitri chuckled. 

Strickland thought of Fleming’s stupid list of all the people assigned to T-4. The mechanics, the assistants, the janitors. 

As Dimitri’s vision faded to black, he heard the very distinct crunch of Strickland biting into the hard candy.

 

Zelda had nearly finished the brussel sprouts and bacon she was making for Brewster. And just in time too. She had promised Elisa she would return to help her release the creature, and when she had left, Elisa and Giles were preparing his van for the journey.

“Alright Brewster, I’m gonna fix your dinner and then I’m gonna run out for a little while,” she informed him as she tapped the spatula and set it down next to the stove.

“Help with what?” Brewster asked from the Barcalounger.

“Help a friend,” Zelda repeated. 

Somebody knocked on the door. 

“Zelda. Door.”

Zelda huffed and started into the living room, stopping right in between him and the television. 

“Well you could help me answer the door Brewster. Seeing as your laying not ten feet away from it,” Zelda snapped. 

“My back is aching me woman,” Brewster replied gruffly.

There was another knock, this time more impatient.

“Your back. Your back. Always your back,” Zelda muttered, throwing her hands up and she crossed to the door and opened it.

Richard Strickland stormed in. 

“Mr. Strickland, what are you doing here, sir?” she asked, her voice slow and tentative. 

“Where is it?” he said, his voice low. “Where did you take it?”

Brewster tried to interject a few times to get more information, but Zelda wasn’t listening. 

“What are you t-talking about?” Zelda stammered as Strickland put a hand on her shoulder and slowly pushed her back against the wall.

“The thing… in the lab…” Strickland said. “Where is it?”

“Listen buddy-” Brewster began, standing up.

“SIT DOWN.”

Brewster dropped back into the chair without another peep. Strickland turned back to Zelda. 

He was breathing hard, and his eyes seemed to have a hard time focusing on her. He was struggling. 

Zelda took her chance. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Zelda apologized. “If I knew anything, I sure would tell you.”

Strickland leaned slightly closer to her, blinking hard as if the low light of the room was blinding. 

“That story about Samson. I never told you how it ends…” Strickland said slowly. “After the Philistines torture him…. and blind him...Samson asks God for the strength he needs, and at the last minute he is spared. And the Lord gives him his strength back. One last time. And he holds the columns of the temple with his powerful arms…”

Strickland took his two decaying reattached fingers in his right hand and began to pull. The horrible sound of bones cracking mixed with the sound of something oozing. 

“And he crushes them…” he continued. 

There was the sound of the bones giving and Strickland let out a groan of pain as the fingers came off. He started breathing heavier. Zelda could feel his hot sickly sweet breath on her face. 

“And he brings the whole building down on the Philistines.”

Strickland tossed the fingers towards the television. Zelda didn’t know what was worse- the fact that there were two severed fingers on the floor or the fact that they landed with dull thuds.

“He dies. But he gets every single one of them motherfuckers.That is his WILL,” Strickland said, shouting the last word and punching the wall.

It was followed by a moment of blinking and hard breathing as Strickland forced himself on.

“Now…” Strickland said slowly. “Do you know what that particular story means for us, Delilah?” 

Zelda, who was doing her best to hold back her sobs, gave the tiniest shake of her head.

“It means that if there’s something you’re not telling me, you’re gonna tell me. Either before or after I bring this particular temple down on our heads,” he said, finishing with his good hand touching her head.    

“Gal stole that thing right out of the lab. Whatever it is. Mute girl took it,” Brewster declared. “ I heard my wife talking on the phone about it.”

Strickland stepped forwards towards Brewster, who shrank back in his chair. To his discomfort, Strickland was smiling slightly, his injured hand tucked just inside his coat. 

“Thank you very much Mr. Fuller. For your assistance. 

He held out his good hand to Brewster for him to shake. Brewster shook it tentatively, waiting for him to strike like a snake. 

Once Strickland had released Brewster’s hand, he immediately turned on his heel and walked back out the front door.

It had barely shut behind him before Zelda started for the kitchen phone.

“Oh Brewster. What have you done,” she muttered. “I gotta warn her.”

She started dialing the phone number to the loft apartments that Giles had provided her earlier in the evening. But just as she did, Brewster flew into the kitchen behind her and clamped his hand down over the button to the line.

“You will do no such thing woman,” he said firmly. “Why are you worrying about her? She broke the law.”

“Shut up Brewster. You shut up,” Zelda snapped, grabbing him by the collar and threatening him with the receiver. Then she pushed him back and hit the dial tone. “For years you don’t talk. And now you can’t shut your mouth.Damn you Brewster.”

She dialed the number and waited for it to ring, all while staring her husband straight in the eye.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said simply. “You  _ couldn’t _ understand. Not if you tried your whole life.”

Unlike earlier when she had tried to call Dr. Hoffstetler, this time someone picked up. 

“Giles? Is that you?” Zelda asked, receiving an affirmative reply. “Okay. Put Elisa on the phone.”

On the other end of the line, Giles pulled the phone away from his ear as Elisa approached him, worried.

“It’s Zelda,” was all he said as he held it out to her. 

She took it and put it up to her ear. 

If it was any other situation, her mind would’ve been preoccupied with how strange of a sensation it was to hold a phone to her ear like this, to hear someone’s voice so quiet yet so close to her in this weirdly intimate way almost everyone else around her was completely used to. 

But it was preoccupied with bigger things at this moment. 

“Elisa hunny, make a sound in the phone if you can hear.”

Elisa tapped the end of the phone near her mouth twice. 

“Okay good,” Zelda said. “He’s coming for you.”

Elisa started pulling away, the phone still held close to her ear. 

“You’ve gotta go now and you’ve gotta take that thing with you.”

 

Elisa and her father had barely managed to get the creature down the stairs and into the back of the van in the alley when they heard a crash out front. 

It was Strickland, she was sure of it. 

Maybe he’d look in Giles apartment and not hers. Maybe it would cost him too much time. Maybe if her father could  _ drive faster _ then he wouldn’t find anything too damning or be at least be able to find them before the creature was safely in the water. 

She tried to urge her father on faster by hitting the back of his seat with her hand, but she couldn’t hit it hard enough from this angle and he couldn’t hear her try over the rain.

They weren’t far from the docks. She passed by it on her way home from the bus every day. Honestly, the only reason they were even  _ driving _ was because the creature was getting weaker by the second and he was going to need energy to get into the water and they couldn’t waste any time. 

She felt the van pull to a stop and heard her father get out. The next moment, he was pulling the back doors open, flashlight in hand, his coat and hat changing colors as the rain soaked them.

“We have to go.”

Elisa had her lips pressed against his smooth head, her arms wrapped around him protectively. Reassuring him that he was going to make it without words or signs. Just with the love that poured from her skin into his. 

She looked up, and couldn’t tell if the water running down her face was rain or tears. Not that it mattered. Rain. Tears. They were almost one and the same. Different salinity, different beginnings, but both a shape of water. 

She shimmied her way out from behind the creature, and then carefully took his scaled arm and encouraged him out of the van.

For a split second as his double eyelids closed, what was left of her heart jolted in fear that they were too late. 

But the rain that was pushed by the wind into the van coaxed him out, like it was crooking some heavenly watery finger out of the van and pointing him towards the canal.

The creature stumbled forward, supported on one side by her and on one side by her father. After several slow steps forward, stopping and starting as the creature pushed forward, they made it to the edge of the canal and released his arms. 

The creature immediately turned towards Elisa, but found another hand on his shoulder. He turned more until he was face to face with Giles. 

Giles sighed, and removed his hat with the same slow dignity of a mourner at a funeral. 

He picked up the creature’s hand and put it on top of his own, silently asking him for just a little more hair. The creature patted him a few times and then chirped and inclined his own head. Giles smiled and patted it fondly and cupped his cheek before walking away towards the van to give his daughter and her lover their moment of goodbye.

As soon as the creature’s hands took hers, she pulled herself away. 

It was too much. This was all just too much. She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t say goodbye. She  _ couldn’t  _ say goodbye. She couldn’t she couldn’t she just… couldn’t.

But her eyes met her father’s. His hand was over his heart, as he watched her. Though he didn’t move his head, she swore she could see him nod her on. 

Elisa nodded nonetheless.

She turned back to the creature, who was still waiting for her.  

He looked... confused. His sounds were low and sad, but his eyes… 

He raised his webbed hands.

_ You...and me… together… _

Elisa shook her head hard, her own hands flying up to reply. 

_ Without me _ , she signed, yanking her hands apart feeling like she was yanking her entire being apart.  _ Without me _ .

The creature let out his saddest sound yet and turned away. She imagined this was him crying. 

As he turned away from her, his shoulders drooped, her hands flew over her mouth. 

What a horrible monster she was, to do this to him. She, who had risked everything to keep him from torture and pain, was now causing him the worst pain he had yet felt. 

He was turned nearly all the way to the canal, when he looked back and made a sound, almost like he was warning her. 

She felt her hand rise to her chest to sign “please” just as there was a loud crack in the night

The creature lurched as a bullet wound blossomed on his chest. There was another shot, and another wound appeared right next to the first. 

The creature fell. 

Elisa turned to see who could have done this, as if she even need to ask, when she felt herself lurch. 

Time seemed to slow down.

Her hand moved down to her abdomen, and her fingers poked through her sweater. 

Oddly enough, her first thought was not that she had gotten shot. Her first thought was ‘how did that hole get there?’

But then her fingers became slick, but not with rain. She had just lifted them high enough to observe the blood staining them red when her vision started to flicker in and out like her father’s television during a thunderstorm. 

Her knees buckled beneath her and she dropped to the ground. 

She turned over to see him, her beautiful, beautiful creature lying on the ground beside her. 

Elisa gasped, forcing her breath to deliver oxygen to her brain with the same silent prayer she had been praying with every ounce of her being for the last few days:  _ please just give me another moment with him.  _

It felt like she was using the last few dregs of her life source to put her hand in his, spreading her fingers wide so they slid between the webbing of his. 

This was it, she thought. But at least she’d get to die with him. 

After all, she hadn’t even been sure that she would even have a life after him. This was a little more literal than she had expected, but sometimes that’s just how it is.

 

Strickland observed their deaths from his place near the electrical transformer and pulled himself up to full height, allowing his chest to swell with pride. 

“I do not fail. I deliver,” he stated proudly. 

But instead of enjoying the moment as he had planned, Giles regained control of himself after getting punched in the face by Strickland the moment before he had raised his gun, and lifted himself to his feet along with a fallen two by four and delivered Strickland a broken nose. 

Once Strickland was down, Giles ran to Elisa and scooped her up into his arms. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no,” he sobbed as he hugged her lifeless form. “My girl. My girl. My dear girl.  No, no, no. Elisa please wake up. Please no. My girl. Oh my girl. No, no, no, no.” 

Giles continued to repeat himself over and over again, hoping,  _ praying _ that his words would be able to get to her heart and restart it. 

He couldn’t lose her. Not his Elisa. Not his daughter. Surely if there was a God above, they’d never force him to watch her die.

If he had done absolutely anything good in his life, it was because of her. God or the Universe or whoever had chosen him to find her. They had put him there at the bank of that river for a reason. She had given him a purpose. She had given him a direction in life. She had been left by someone so that he could find her and raise her and show her love. 

This could not be how it ended. A morbid cycle. Finding her by the river and losing her by the river. Watching her finally find love only for her to lose it and her life in the process. 

She deserved so much more than that. 

“My girl,” he whimpered. “Please Elisa. Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose you. Please, please, please.”

There was no use. Her eyes remained closed. Her hands remained motionless. Her body remained limp.

Elisa was lost.

Giles could not let her go. He could not put her down, because, because… because then it would be real. He’d be accepting it. 

And he would not accept it. 

There was movement in front of him. 

Giles started, thinking it was a miracle. That Elisa had come back to him. But she hadn’t.

Someone else had. 

The creature started to stir, to glow. 

He rolled over onto his knees and sharp spines popped out from his back. Slowly, he rose to his feet, blue pricks of light sparking up and down his body.

It looked at Giles square in the eye and raised a hand to the shrinking wounds on his chest. He rubbed his hand down it like he was rubbing something off, and when he pulled his hand away, the wounds were gone. 

Behind them near the transformer, Strickland too had stirred. His face bloody from his bleeding nose, he got up and started to reload his gun, but the chamber came loose and the bullets spilled out of it. 

Cursing, he started digging in his pocket for more as the creature noticed him. 

Slowly and gracefully, the creature walked towards Strickland. It paused in front of him, and seemed to inspect him seriously. 

 

we look at the bad man and the bad man looks at us the bad man is bleeding that is good we want to bad man to bleed because the bad man made us bleed and the bad man made the woman we love bleed we want the bad man to bleed we want the bad man to hurt we want the bad man to know pain because the bad man gave us pain /// so many ways to kill the bad man do we hit do we bite do we yank no the bad man he hurt us but he also hurt the woman we love not just with weapons but with words his words made her feel bad his words made her feel scared his words made her feel ashamed if he uses his words to make the woman we love feel bad then we when we kill him we will make sure not to let him have any more words

 

Strickland squinted up at the creature through the rain and through streaming blood. 

It gave him such a knowing look that he wondered how the fuck he ever could have reduced down to just an animal.

“Fuck. You  _ are _ a god.”

The creature slashed a claw so fast through his throat that he barely even registered the movement. 

Blood sprayed and he tried to get a breath, to make a sound, but he couldn’t. Blood filled his throat with the taste of iron and he dropped to his knees, choking on the consequences of his own life choices.

The creature huffed a quiet triumph in the cold night air. But they were far from victory yet.

Giles looked up, Elisa still in his arms, as the creature came back into view in front of him. He stretched his arm out slightly as if offering to take her. 

Giles’ first thought was immediately ‘you can’t have her she’s mine’, but then he thought of the bullets. The creature could heal. Perhaps… there might be a chance.

Giles sat back, allowing the creature to pick her up bridal style. It would have almost been beautiful if Elisa wasn’t dead.

Red and blue lights started to color the scene as police cars swarmed to the scene. 

Zelda got out of her car having led them here to find Strickland, and saw Giles near the edge of the canal. Umbrella in hand, she hurried to him, just as the creature jumped into the water below, Elisa in hand. 

Giles stared down at the murky depths of the canal, saying nothing as Zelda approached him and took his arm gently, but instead giving her a tiny shake of the head. 

Elisa was gone. And the creature had taken her body with him. 

He wanted to tell her what he thought, how maybe, just  _ maybe _ , the creature could save her. That she wasn’t quite dead and that he could heal her and bring her back to life. 

But they didn’t resurface. And Giles knew they never would. 

To believe they might live on was a wonderful idea, but it was too much to say out loud. But the thought, no matter how much it reassured him, no matter how much it gave him some minuscule bit of hope to cling on to, could not be true. 

And to insist upon it would be the pathetic musings of a lonely man drowning in grief.


	20. Epilogue

All that was left in the apartment next door was the furniture. Her bed had been stripped of its sheets, the tables cleared away. Her carefully curated shelves of shoes, her cabinets full of dishes, emptied. 

When he returned after they had finished cleaning it out (having gone to attend six or seven AA meetings in a row to keep himself from drinking), it looked just like any apartment cleared out to rent. Like anyone could have lived there.

But it wasn’t anyone. It was  _ her _ .

His Elisa. His neighbor. His confidant. 

His daughter. 

The FBI had taken just about everything that belonged to her, as well as all of his artwork of her and the creature. Every picture, every keepsake. They agreed not to send him to prison, and even had given him some hush money, but in return Elisa would cease to exist. 

No records. No documents. He couldn’t keep anything that belonged to her. Not her diplomas, not her books. Not even his album of baby pictures or the pictures he had kept in his wallet for thirty-odd years.

For all anyone knew, he was just a lonely old man who had spent his whole life being just that- lonely. 

As he stared at the wall, twenty years of sobriety attempting to quash the screams for alcohol and death that threatened to tear him apart, there was a knock on the door. And for the briefest, most fleeting moment, he forgot she was gone. 

That was, until his visitor spoke.

“Giles,” Mr. Arzounian said, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

“It’s open,” was all he managed to get out. His voice was low and weak. 

The landlord pushed it open gently.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said in his accented English. “But your mail was blocking the theater’s so I got it for you. Yours and…”

He cut himself off. 

There was a moment of silence between them.

“You’re taking care of her, uh, things, yes? Canceling the bills and all that. ”

Giles nodded slowly. 

“I know that is hard. I had to do it for my brother a few years ago. When it’s your family it’s never… Well, it’s not good. Not good...” he trailed off. “She was a good girl. Water damage aside, she was still a good girl. Always very nice. Came and saw the movies when no one else would. You should be proud. You raised a lovely girl.”

Mr. Arzounian nodded and let out a little huff Giles suspected was hiding a sniffle.

“Anyways. There you go.”

He tossed a large pile of mail on the back edge of the couch and left. 

But before he reached the door, he turned back.

“Oh. Also, I don’t want it to sound, uh, what’s the word? Insensitive? I don’t want to sound insensitive but I got a call today about a potential renter. For Elisa’s… for the apartment. I know it’s not right, renting it so soon, but we need… tenants,” Mr. Arzoumanian said, adding the last word so softly Giles almost missed it. “She’ll be coming by to look at it today. She sounded nice on the phone. Uh, if you’re here… You might, uh, see her. When we come to tour. Her name is Zelda. Zelda… Fuller. I don’t know how she knew it was available, but...”

The man trailed off. He let out another huff, nodded, and then left.

For the first time in days, Giles felt willing to get up. 

That afternoon, he took the first shower he had taken since Elisa died. He washed his hair, brushed his teeth, put on fresh clothes. And then he waited.

“Giles,” she said as soon as her tour was over and Mr. Arzoumanian left them to get acquainted. “I was hoping you’d still be here.”

Giles was never sure if this was a comment on his location at the time or that he remained among the living. 

“I haven’t left,” he croaked. His voice was hoarse.

“I hope it’s not… The apartment,” she said softly, turning slightly to acknowledge it. “I-I can’t stay with my husband. Not anymore. He… he told that man what happened. He’s- he’s partly responsible for why she’s…”

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath to stop herself from sobbing.

“I should have left him a long time ago,” she continued. “And now I just have to. And I figured if I’m leaving, maybe there was a place that… I know you don’t get out much. Even when she was… And I know that she looked after you. And me. And all of us. So I thought that perhaps I could move in here. So neither of us have to be alone. But I understand that it’s very soon after her… And if you don’t want me to, I promise I won’t-“

Without warning Giles stepped towards her and wrapped her in a hug. Her tears fell, as did his.

It was the funeral Elisa didn’t get to have. The two people who she cared for more than anything and who cared for her, crying for her. Honoring her. Remembering her.

Within a day or two, Zelda had moved into the apartment across the hall. 

She had left Occam at the same time she left Brewster. It seemed clear, at least to Giles, that this was something the FBI had asked her to do. But it also seemed she was more than happy to take their offered hush money and never return to the place that was a source of so much pain.

Zelda started work at a hospital, still as a janitor, but decided to use the money to do something better. In addition to officially divorcing Brewster, she began taking night school classes and within a year and a half was re-hired at the same hospital, this time as a nurse. Helping people in need, she felt, was the best way to honor Elisa’s memory.

The days were long, and though her apartment felt like home more and more, she was also more and more tired. The only thing that was better about it was at least she didn’t have to work overnight anymore.

One morning, she was on her rounds when she visited a room of a middle-aged black man with a very straight, trimmed mustache and close cut hair. 

“Are you my nurse today?”

“Yes, sir. I am,” Zelda replied automatically. She consulted the chart. “It appears that I am here to check on your stitches. Seems you had your gallbladder removed yesterday and I just need to see how the wound looks.”

“Of course,” he said, giving her a warm smile. “I look forward to hearing your professional opinion.”

Something stirred inside her that she hadn’t felt since the very early days of her relationship with Brewster.

Zelda felt her face grow hot as she approached the man and lifted his gown to check his stitches. As she leaned over to lift the gauze and observe the wound, she could smell him. Cigar smoke and books and soap.

“Everything looks good to me, sir,” she said, standing up quickly. “I’ll just let the doctor know and I’m sure he’ll be around soon to check on you too.”

Zelda turned for the door, when she felt a large, strong hand in hers. It wasn’t jerking or a show of control, like every other time had been. It was…soft. 

“You can’t stay for a moment longer? It would be nice to have company, even if for a few minutes,” the man said in his deep, calm tone as Zelda looked back at him. “I must admit I haven’t had anyone to talk to since they took the gallbladder out. And my kidneys are too bereft at the loss to hold any conversations.”

Zelda chuckled politely but inside her mind roared. This nice looking man who used words like ‘bereft’ wanted  _ her _ to sit and talk to him. 

She did, trying to remind herself that this was just one of her duties. He just wanted the company and he would have asked  _ any  _ of the nurses to sit and stay. Not even his interest in thanking her for her care was specifically for  _ her. _

But when she bumped to him at the supermarket a week later, half hiding behind a display of Cheerios, a business card in his hand with his home number scribbled on the back, she had second thoughts.

His name was Edward Bellevue, and he was an English professor at Howard in DC. He was only spending the summer in Baltimore while on sabbatical, but hoped that perhaps she could come down to visit some weekend when he returned.

Within six months, they were engaged. Within ten, Zelda was cleaning out the apartment, packing things in boxes to send to DC to live with her new husband and step-children.

“Are you going to be alright? Without me?” Zelda asked nervously after Edward shook Giles’ hand and picked up the last box to be hauled downstairs. 

“Of course. I can look after myself, you know,” Giles said chuckling. 

“But there won’t be anyone around though. You’ll be all alone and Lord knows I don’t want Elisa’s ghost comin’ back all angry with me for not taking care of you properly,” Zelda said, only half joking. 

“I’ll be alright. And if Elisa’s ghost  _ does  _ come around, send her my way. I’d love to see her again.”

There was a pregnant pause as the finality of the situation settled on them.

“You will call, won’t you?” Giles asked quietly. “Just to talk?”

“Yes, yes. I will,” Zelda said, nodding. “But we can’t talk about-“

“I know, I know,” Giles said seriously. “But we can talk about other things. Check in on each other. See how your kids are doing and all that.”

Zelda opened her mouth as if to say something, but instead just nodded and hugged him again.

She did call. Every Sunday night at 8pm after her family dinner. Even as the sixties turned to the seventies and her duties became not one of mother but of grandmother, she still called. 

In the meantime, he focused on art. Creating, painting. He channeled his grief into his work, just like he had done all those years ago with Andrew. He remembered the pair of them, he  _ spoke _ of them, not through words but through light and color. 

His work sold far more than it ever had because people  _ felt  _ it. They connected with it. Everyone experienced grief at some point, and therefore everyone shared it.

But he still wondered if enough time had passed. If it would be safe enough now to talk of what had happened so long ago. If only with Zelda, on one of their calls. Just for a moment speak of what they had lost.

But he didn’t. Though he doubted any of those FBI agents or any workers from Occam or  _ anyone _ apart from them remembered what had happened, the government itself wouldn’t. It wasn’t in the business of forgetting things. 

Though as the seventies turned into eighties, it became apparent, well according to some newspapers at least, that the government  _ had _ managed to forget some things.

 

Around the beginning of the 1981, Giles had read a terrifying news article about a mysterious disease that was killing young men. Men like him. Men who had loved other men.

The disease itself was horrifying. There was no cure, or even any effective treatment, and made the men’s immune system turn on them. Though there were disease-related illnesses that could cause death, common illnesses like the flu or the cold could kill them too.

What was more horrifying, though, was that nothing was being done. Whether the government could not or  _ would _ not do anything about it, he didn’t know, but the fact remained that nothing was being done. And these men were dying, alone.

Hospitals, nursing homes, doctors- they rejected them like their immune systems rejected their bodies. Cemeteries and funeral homes refused to bury those who had died of what Giles referred to as ‘the plague’. Families turned away from their dying children.

Giles had been protected from the plague simply by the circumstances of his life so far. He was quite old, and he had not been in love, let alone slept with anyone, in nearly forty years. He thought back to Elisa’s creature, how he had once said he didn’t know if he had been born too early or too late for his life. He pondered this, thinking of how these men could have been him in another life.

He became driven, both by this realization as well as the driving factors that had stirred him to live every day. He would do what he had done for Andrew and Elisa- he would remember them. If no one else would,  _ he  _ would. 

He would tell their stories. 

So he sought out the ones who cared. The ones who took the men in, who comforted them, cared for them, and would give them proper burials if no one else would. Giles would ask if he could speak to the men. Most would let him. 

He bought a tape recorder and would set it to record as the men recounted their life stories to him. Sometimes, he would bring drawing paper and charcoal, and sketch while he interviewed them. Some of the men gave them photographs of them when they were healthy or their families or their lovers. He collected all these and more and packed them into boxes.

When he had filled ten large cardboard boxes with the mementos and stories and art, he would carefully type up the names and the dates of birth, interview, and death and pack them to send to the Smithsonian, all with the same note:  _ These are the stories and lives of the men lost to the plague. Find them, keep them, and share them, so that they may not be forgotten. _

 

On days like today, the days he kept to himself (collecting the stories of the dying being emotionally and mentally exhausting work he couldn’t do every day), he would often get coffee at the local coffee shop before heading out to paint.

Today, he was at a coffee shop near the river. From his vantage point, he could watch everyone who passed by the large window. 

He sipped at his coffee, considering his next work of art, as a pair of older teenagers stopped in front of the coffee shop. They were tourists, it seemed as they consulted a large map in front of them, possibly from somewhere in South America, given their tanner skin and the fact that they were bundled up with scarves and long sleeves despite the relatively temperate weather.

The young man looked closely at the map for a moment and then tucked it against his chest as he raised his hand and signed something in ASL to the young woman with him. They must have been just from out of town then, if Giles could understand their signs.

Giles watched, as he often did when people near him signed, to see what they were chatting about. It sometimes got him into trouble, at which point he would apologize and tell the person signing that he couldn’t help but watch. It reminded him of his daughter who passed away a very long time ago. 

The young man outside the shop believed they should go in one direction, while the young woman thought they should go in the other. By the way they argued, it was clear that these two were siblings. 

Giles finished his coffee and stood up. He exited the shop, bag in hand, and waved to get their attention. They both stared at him wide-eyed.

_ Can I help you find something?  _ Giles signed.  _ I apologize for watching, but I saw that you’re lost? Can I help you find where you need to go? _

The two exchanged glances for a moment, their brows raised as they held a silent conversation with just their eyes. 

The young man was the first to look back. 

_ We’re looking for the Orpheum Theatre. Do you know it? _

Giles chuckled.

_ The theatre closed many years ago. But I can show you where it is. I live right above it. _

The young woman’s eyes looked excited, but she did not raise her hands to sign. Giles considered this, but let it go, and led them down the block in the direction of his house.

It was not a far walk, but Giles was sure these two young people would remove their scarves and roll up their sleeves by the time they reached the theatre. It was seventy degrees and sunny. They had to be burning up, but before Giles asked, he realized a peculiar but explanatory fact- their scarves were damp. 

A strange but interesting way to cool oneself down, he figured.

_ See? It’s been closed for a while,  _ he explained as they reached the now-decrepit theatre. 

_ You live upstairs?  _ The young woman asked, looking up.

_ Yes. _

_ Does anyone else live up there? _ She asked.

_ No. Not for a very long time _ , Giles replied.

_ Can we see it?  _ The young man, pointing to the apartment. 

Giles chuckled and  waved them up. 

Mr. Arzoumanian had died a time ago, and left the business to his son. His son was not nearly as invested as his father, and let Giles get away with not paying the rent if he forgot about it, but in return let the theatre and apartments fall into disrepair.

But the sibling did not seem deterred. In fact they seemed positively excited to come look a the cracked walls and peeling wallpaper. 

Giles led them inside the empty left side apartment where Elisa had once lived and almost immediately forced himself not to sob. There was a reason he kept the door shut and locked and it wasn’t because the apartment was vacant.

_ Nobody lives here _ ? The girl asked after giving the apartment a good onceover. 

Giles shook his head. 

_ The last person moved out a long time ago. Her name was Zelda. A good friend of mine. And of my-  _ Giles struggled to finish the sentence.  _ My daughter. _

The girl seemed a little confused, but nodded. She then turned to her brother and held a conversation Giles couldn’t see as their backs were turned to him. It ended in a shrug from both parties and then they turned back to him. .

_ I don’t think I introduced myself. My name is G-I-L-E-S _ , Giles signed.  _ What are your names _ ?

_ My name is E-R-I-C _ , the boy signed, followed by the sign for ‘silly’. He then repeated this sign again, but this time with an ‘e’, which Giles figured must be his name sign.

_ My name is A-R-I-E-L _ , the girl signed, followed by the sign for ‘smart’ pulled away into an ‘a’.

_ Interesting names, _ Giles signed.  _ Did they come from somewhere? Family. _

_ We don’t know _ , Ariel replied.  _ Our mother just liked them for some reason. _

Giles nodded and shrugged slightly, moving on.

_ Are you two from around here? _ Giles asked. 

The two shook their heads. 

_ Just visiting _ , Eric signed.  _ We wanted to see where our mother grew up. _

Giles’ brow furrowed. 

_ Like to see the city? See Baltimore? _

Eric nodded. 

_ And here. I think our mother grew up here _ , he said, motioning to the apartment. 

“No,” Giles stated automatically.

The two you people must have had some level of hearing as they seemed stunned by this sudden use of spoken language. They looked at him, confused, and then exchanged a glance with each other. 

_ Your mother did not grow up here _ , Giles signed.  _ I know… _

Giles took a deep breath.

_ I knew the woman who grew up here. She died a long time ago. She was not your mother. _

The pair exchanged glances and then hung their heads. Ariel was the first one to look up.

_ Was she your daughter? _

Giles breath caught in his throat but he still nodded. 

_ Her name was E-L-I-S-A _ , Giles signed, fingerspelling her name. It hurt too much to try and use her name sign.

_ What happened to her? _ Eric asked, his signs small, his hands held close to his body.

_ She died _ , Giles answered with a short, quick sign.  _ Many years ago. _

Eric and Ariel nodded and returned to hanging their heads. Giles took a deep shaky breath and then waved to get their attention.

_ You two are free to look around all you want _ , he signed with slow and careful movements.  _ But know that this is not the right place. Your mother did not grow up here.  _

With that Giles turned for the door. Tears were pricking at his eyes and he needed to get back to his apartment before he began to sob.

He was doing well, almost there, until the moment his hand touched the doorknob and he heard a tap on the wall mean to get his attention. 

He turned back to the two teenagers, tears now streaming down his face. 

_ I’m sorry about your daughter Elisa _ , Eric signed. 

Giles made a short gruff sound and turned back to the door. But then a though his hit him hard and fast like being splashed with boiling water. He spun on his heel.

_ How did you know? _

Eric and Ariel exchanged glances. 

_ Know what? _ Eric signed wide-eyed. 

_ You just signed her name. You just used her name sign. I didn’t show you her name sign. How did you know? _

Eric shrugged, his expression taken aback as as he tried to play it off. 

_ Did I use a name sign? _ He asked, turning to Ariel.  _ Did you see me use a name sign? Because I don’t remember- _

Giles clapped loudly and both Eric and Ariel jumped. 

_ HOW DID YOU KNOW?  _

Eric grinned sheepishly. 

_ She taught me? _

_ That’s impossible,  _ Giles snapped.  _ It’s impossible.  _

_ It wouldn’t be possible _ , Eric agreed, his signs very slow.  _ If she were dead… but she’s not… _

A tiny piece of hope jolted Giles heart. 

_Don’t lie to me_ , he signed quickly. _I swear if you’re…_ _Don’t lie to me._

Eric shook his head sincerely. The hope in his heart recognized elements of Elisa’s expression in his and grew a little stronger.

Giles waited on tenterhooks as the siblings had another silent conversation via eyebrows and nodding. Finally Ariel signed “this whole thing was your stupid idea, you show him”. 

Eric sighed and began to unravel his scarf.

Giles could have hit the floor. 

There, on both sides of the young man’s neck, were three evenly spaced lines. They were the exact size, shape, and location of Elisa’s scars.

But that wasn’t right. These kids in front of him looked nothing like his daughter. And even if they did, scars weren’t hereditary. And he highly doubted that even if they had been adopted, it was nearly impossible that Elisa had just happened to find and adopt a child that had the exact same procedure done to her as an infant.

_ Scars?  _ Giles asked, dragging a fingernail down the side of his neck. 

Eric shook his head. 

_ Gills. Like a fish _ .

The hope in Giles’ heart grew even stronger. 

What if the creature  _ had _ saved her? Healed her wounds? Changed her to have gills like he had changed Giles to have hair? It would explain why she hadn’t resurfaced in the canal so long ago...

Giles couldn’t make himself think rationally. 

Elisa was alive. She was alive and safe somewhere out there in the world. With the creature. Safe and alive and happy. With two children and…

_ Where is she? _

Eric and Ariel looked confused.

_ At home? _ Ariel signed slowly, as if the answer was obvious.

_ Yes I know, _ Giles signed exasperated.  _ Where is home? _

_ Brazil _ ? Eric answered, though he didn’t seem sure.  _ We don’t really have maps… I know it’s a river… somewhere in Brazil… _

_ Take me there. Take me with you to your home _ , Giles ordered.  _ Take me to her _ .

Eric and Ariel seemed concerned by this initially but they couldn’t deny this man, their  _ grandfather _ they reminded themselves, seemed completely seriously. Plus, they had heard so many stories about him, heard how highly their mother spoke of him, that they wanted to know him.

_ Take me with you. Now _ .

Ariel seemed to be the voice of reason for between the two, and immediately encouraged Giles to breathe and relax. 

_ We can take you there. There is a city not far from our home. We can take you there, but I have to ask: can you swim? _

 

Though Giles was ready to hop on a plane at that very moment, he found it was far more difficult than he thought to just up and leave the country. 

He sold everything he could save for some summer clothes, his art supplies, and the bare necessities. He used the money to buy a ticket to Rio de Janeiro, which Ariel had recognized as the city closest to them.

The siblings had left the night they arrived so they could meet him in the city and lead him to their home.

Giles had tried to call Zelda to encourage her to come with him. But she had grandmother and mother duties and couldn’t be so quickly uprooted. She told him to go and let her know what he found out.

Giles had to admit too that her hesitance had to be, in part at least, because she didn’t believe him. She didn’t want to go through all the hassle just to find out it wasn’t true. Get her hopes up just for them to get crushed. He knew that if he were not so desperate, perhaps he would have been hesitant to too.

But she hadn’t met them, Giles reminded himself. She hadn’t  _ met  _ them. They hadn’t shown up and signed to her. She hadn’t seen them, real as anything, standing right in front of her informing her that their mother Elisa was alive.

This was what pushed him onto the plane. This is was what pushed him through baggage claim and customs and through groups of people speaking Portuguese. 

And they were still real here too. Waiting for him exactly where they said they’d be.

He followed the river on foot for what had to be miles and miles. The siblings took turns walking with him and swimming beside. The only reason he stopped to rest at all was because his body couldn’t take another step.

The closer they got to their destination, the more agitated and worried the siblings seemed to get. But not as if they were in danger or anything. More like they were preparing to get in a lot of trouble. 

And they had a good reason to think this. 

 

Elisa paced up and down the riverbank. 

She had been so adamantly against this whole three week hunting trip the kids proposed. She feared they were going to get themselves caught or hurt or  _ worse _ . 

She had expected her fish god husband to back her up, but he had stayed pretty neutral on the subject. Perhaps he thought they were old enough to go on long trips on their own, she thought. Or he knew something she didn’t. 

She had never been big on prayer, especially when she breathed in water for the first time and realized it had not been God with a capital ‘G’ that had come to save her and serve divine retribution like David Fleming had predicted at her Occam interview so long ago, but rather an Amazonian fish man who could heal her with a kiss. 

There had been no need to keep of days or or months years in a very long time, but when the kids left, Elisa was careful to count every single one. She ticked off sunsets on a rock near the cave they called home. But twenty-one became twenty-two became twenty-three. 

The sun was nearly setting now, which meant they would be three days late. Eric could be lazy and forgetful (there was a reason his name sign doubled as the sign for ‘foolish’), but Ariel was always prompt and punctual. So where the hell were they?

The creature watched her pace from his place in the river. Only his eyes were visible above the water. 

He wanted to ask her again to come back into the river, but he didn’t. 

He might be a seven foot tall river god, but he was intimidated by his tiny mate when she got like this. His lovely Elisa could not yell with her mouth, but she certainly knew how to yell with her hands, and the creature did not want to get snapped at. Not again. 

He was just getting up the nerve to ask her again when they heard the sound of sticks breaking. 

Elisa’s neck turned so fast towards the trees behind her that she heard the bones crack. 

Eric and Ariel had stepped out of the trees, dirty and muddy, but otherwise fine. 

Elisa ran to them and wrapped them both in her arms. But there was only a moment of happy reunion before she pulled back, her expression livid.

_Where the_ ** _fuck_** _have you been?_ She signed harshly, not caring that she was breaking the rule against cursing that she had so strongly enforced on her children. _Your father and I have been worried sick. I gave you three weeks and only three weeks-_

_ Momma, momma, momma, momma,  _ Eric signed quickly, his hand moving back and forth in front of him so fast it looked like he was waving sideways.

_ Don’t interrupt me _ , she snapped.  _ You two are in so much trouble. You promised me that you would be back on time.  _

_ Yes momma,  _  Ariel signed. _ We were going to! But we got delayed! _

_ By what? _ Elisa signed angrily. 

Ariel signed “look” and then directed Elisa to look behind them. She followed her line of sight to the person standing at the edge of the trees.

Part of Giles was still not convinced any of this could be true. That this whole thing was made up. That he was dreaming. And not even seeing her standing there fully convinced him.

Elisa was the same and yet very different. 

Her brown hair was long and French-braided down her back. Her skin shimmered slightly in the fading sunlight. The dress she wore flowed easily with her movement even though it looked like it was hewn from grass and rock.

It seemed too good to be true. Too  _ impossible  _ to be true. 

But as soon as she saw him, she signed it.

The one sign, the special sign,  _ his sign… _

There could be no doubt at all.

_ Daddy? _

He felt the hope in his heart grow beyond its limits. It expanded past himself, past the trees, past the atmosphere. An overflow of love expanding out into the universe. 

Elisa started running towards him. He started too, but he was so overwhelmed that he could barely make his feet move. 

She collided with him, wrapping her arms around him and hugging his tighter and harder than she ever had before. And Giles hugged her back just as tight if not tighter.

Hugged  _ her. Elisa _ . Safe and alive and standing there right in front of him.

Elisa pulled away, her face covered in tears. Her hands started moving so fast that he couldn’t catch all of it.

_ I’m so sorry _ … _ too dangerous… always wanted to… I was so scared… _

“Hunny, hunny. It doesn’t matter,” Giles said, grabbing her hands, his own tears bursting forth. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here. You’re  _ alive _ . You’re here and you’re alive and you have family… Oh Elisa, I hoped and I thought… When he took you, I hoped that meant...He saved you, didn’t he?”

Elisa nodded.

_ I wanted to tell you, but I was so scared that we’d get found and they’d take us away or worse and… _

Elisa’s hands stopped moving as she wrapped her father in another hug. This time it was GIles who pulled away.

“Where is he? The creature? That’s not- What do you call him?”

_ My love?  _ Elisa offered.  _ My husband? _

“Okay. Let’s call him your husband,” Giles noddd. “If that’s what you kids are calling it.”

Elisa turned towards the river, but the creature had gotten out already and was signing with the kids. She clapped to get their attention.

The creature seemed to remember there was an intruder in their midst and he prepared to puff himself up to intimidate the newcomer, but then a look of recognition passed over his face. 

_ Do you remember Giles? _ Elisa asked, using his name sign again. 

God, just seeing it signed and better yet seeing it signed by  _ her, _ it just… there were just no words.

The creature definitely seemed to remember him, but he looked confused at Elisa’s sign.

_ I thought he was G-I-L-E-S,  _ the creature signed. 

His signs were still slow (it was the webbed fingers) but he had come a long way since Giles had last seen him.

_ Yes his name is G-I-L-E-S, but I use his name sign _ , she replied, emphasizing the ‘dad’ pulled away with a ‘g’.

The creature gave a chirp of understanding.

_ Hello, dad. _

“That’s not quite… I mean it is but that’s not what she…” Giles started to correct, but then he just sighed, smiling. “Hello son. It’s good to see you too.”

The creature chirped happily.

_ Will you give us a moment alone? _ Elisa asked the creature.  _ Maybe talk to the kids? _

The creature nodded and then turned back to where the kids were standing and having a conversation. He approached them and immediately tackled them into the water. Giles was concerned, but Elisa wasn’t so he let it go. 

“I have fish for a son. Well, son-in-law,” Giles chuckled, shaking his head. “I guess there are worse in-laws to have.”

Elisa smiled. 

_ You have a fish for a daughter too _ .

“Yes, well… You were human first.”

To his surprise, her face fell. She shook her head.

“What? You weren’t human?”

She gave him a gesture like “so-so”. Her hands hesitated for a moment before she started signing, her words slow and thoughtful.

_ When I was with you, I was human. I know that. But… but when he changed me… I remembered. Whatever was before you. Wherever I came from… it was from the water. Somehow, _ Elisa signed.  _ I don’t… I don’t remember anything more that that. My parents or anything. Just that I came from the water and I was meant to come back. _

When she finished, Giles frowned. Her heart dropped and she wrung her hands.

_ Are you upset?  _ She added, biting her lip.

“Upset?” Giles asked confused. “No… no, no hunny. Just… Did I do okay?”

Elisa turned her head just slightly, her turn to be confused. 

“I mean… if you came from the water…” Giles said slowly. “I mean you kept running off towards the water all the time. Like you did. Always. Were you trying to go home? Did I keep you from- should I have let you?”

Elisa shook her head, her eyes wide. 

_ When I was with you, I was completely human, _ she signed.  _ If you would have let me run off into the water every time I wanted to, I would have definitely drowned. _

_ “ _ Oh. Okay. Good,” Giles said with a sigh of relief. “I just… I mean I‘ve always worried about you and if I did okay. And when you died, well, when I  _ thought _ you died, I kept wondering if I had done something different… If I would have encouraged you to get a different job or work during the day or if Andrew hadn’t pushed you into science would you have still…”

The words caught in Giles’ throat as he was hit with another wave of emotion. Elisa took his hand and squeezed it. 

_ It was fate _ , she signed simply.  _ You couldn’t have stopped it.  _

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Giles said in a small voice. “Oh Elisa, my love. I-I missed you so much. My girl.”

Elisa took his hand and raised it to cup her cheek as if to remind her father that it was really her. 

“I can’t believe you’re here. You’re alive and you’re safe and you’ve got a family.”

Elisa nodded, tearing up again. She glanced towards the river. 

“They’re good kids,” Giles assured her. “A little mischievous. Have their own sense of what’s right that everyone might not agree on. Can’t imagine where they got  _ that _ from.”

Elisa smirked and then shook her head.

_ I have no idea _ , she signed with a shrug.

She chuckled and Giles wrapped his arms around her again.

His daughter, back in his arms, alive and well after twenty long years. There was no way he would ever stop hugging her. At least not until all the hugs he gave her erased the memory of hugging her as she lay dying.

They both had to take a moment after pulling apart to wipe their eyes once more.

“I take it you did not give birth to them,” Giles said, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. “They don’t look, uh...  _ fishy  _ enough for that.”

Elisa chuckled again and shook her head. Then she lit up as if remembering something amusing. 

_ We found them near the river. _

“You’re kidding.”

Elisa shook her head and chuckled silently. But then her smile faded.

_ We found their parents too. Dead. Killed by people looking for oil, _ Elisa informed him.  _ I couldn’t leave them there all alone. They were just babies. _

_ So I asked, I  _ **_begged_ ** _ my love to change them. I told him ‘change them like you changed me! Save them like you saved me!’ And it was very hard. In many ways, not just physically. But he did it. And they’ve been ours ever since. _

“How old are they?”

Elisa took a second to think, counting on her fingers.

_ Eighteen _ , she answered.  _ Or so. Time is funny here. _

“I see. It’s probably your, uh, husband’s glowing healing thing. I mean look at me,” Giles said, taking a step back to give Elisa a better view of him. “I still look like a middle-aged divorcé. Hunny, I just turned eighty-two. And you. Elisa, you look incredible... for being fifty-seven.”

Elisa blushed and looked down at herself.

“You haven’t changed a bit. Well you have, but you still look like yourself,” Giles said. “Except your hair. You let it grow. I’ve never seen it this long. Even when you were little you didn’t like it long. I guess you get a magical second life and you just let everything go?”

Elisa shrugged. 

_ Also there’s no scissors here and I’m too particular to let my love cut it with his claws.  _

“I guess that’s fair,” Giles acknowledged. “And your scars-gills, their gills. I’m sorry. It’s just… when you pat them down like that, they look exactly the same… Because they were always gills. I’m just now- how could I have missed that?”

Giles suddenly looked concerned.

“Gills.  _ Gills _ . The water. Don’t you need to get back in the water. Has it been thirty minutes?”

Elisa held up her hands for him to calm down.

_ The kids and I can stay out of the water as long as we want. Perks of having human lungs.  _

Giles nodded, reminding himself to breath as he had panicked that she couldn’t. Once calm, he glanced back at her  scars gills.

“And they… work? Like open and close and all that? When you’re underwater?” he asked warily. 

Elisa nodded and turned her head slightly so he could see her neck. She brushed a hand up so the gills opened and then brushed them back closed. As she did, she stuck her tongue out and giving a shiver of disgust.

“I expect it’s like sticking your finger in your mouth.”

Elisa shook her head and then mimed sticking her finger in her nose. Giles raised his eyebrows. 

“That’s worse.”

Elisa nodded. 

“I expect you realized that analogy because of having young children?”

_ How did you know? _ Elisa signed before rolling her eyes. 

“Well,  I once had a young child once. Young children are gross and enjoy poking their fingers into things that should not be poked,” Giles said sincerely.

_ Are you thinking of the slug? _ Elisa signed, smirking.

“Of course I am thinking of the slug, dear. It was disgusting and all over the floor.”

Elisa chuckled and Giles tried to keep a straight face for as long as he could, but his joy was too powerful and he started laughing along with her. 

She bit her lip and then sighed. She glanced again towards the river. 

_ I worry about them, _ she signed.  _ They can sign but they can’t understand any spoken language. If they ever wanted to leave…  _

Elisa shook her head firmly, trying to shake the thought from her head. 

_Not that they would_ _leave_ , she started but then stopped, considering. _No. I can’t say that. Because they did leave. They went to Baltimore._

“I’ll be honest with you dear,” Giles said. “I assumed they were Deaf. I shouldn’t have, I know, because you always hated when people assumed that, but… Well, can they read?”

_ ‘Can they read?’  _ Elisa signed. She let out a huff, visibly offended.  _ What do you take me for? _

“Well dear you live underwater,” Giles stated, pointing towards the river. “I don’t think books would hold up well.”

_ Yes, they can read _ , Elisa affirmed.  _ Why? _

“Well, if they can sign and they can read, it sounds to me like they’re two typical teenagers raised in a household that only signs,” Giles offered, shrugging. 

But there was something in the look on her face that told him that wasn’t the whole story. 

“You worry you took something away from them when you changed them.”

Elisa sighed and nodded. 

_ I know it’s not the same. But I can’t help but worry about it. I mean I had a happy childhood, but sometimes it was just… difficult. Not being able to talk. And  _ **_I_ ** _ could understand English.  _

“You saved their lives. I think they’re okay with it,” Giles said.

At that moment, the creature surged out of the water, followed by the two teenage kids. Their dark hair streamed with water, their gills flapping open and closed as their body shifted gears to breathe in the air. 

Elisa and Giles looked at them, smiling. Eric waved happily and Ariel promptly pushed him back into the water before diving in after him. 

Elisa turned back to her father, still smiling. He took her hand and squeezed it.

“That’s just parent guilt, my dear. You worry about them. I worried about you. Every parent does it,” he reassured her in a soft voice only she could hear. “They live in a river in the Amazon rainforest. They can breathe underwater and run through the trees. And best of all, they have parents who love them. Though I guess they could still have trouble with  _ school. _ ”

It took a second for Elisa to realize what he had said and when she finally got it, she sighed and shook her head in exasperation.

_ How long were you waiting to say that? _

“Just since you said they could read,” Giles said, grinning. “Consider that one a gift from Andrew. Your other dad who loved you as much as I do and as much as you do your own kids.”

Elisa squeezed his hand back, her smile growing. 

“And you know, my dear, for what’s it worth, I had a daughter who never spoke a word a day in her life. And you know what? She turned out just fine,” Giles said, his eyes twinkling. “Though she did steal a fish god creature out of the top-secret government facility where she worked at and got myself, her best friend, and a Russian spy involved, so maybe she didn’t turn out  _ perfectly _ .”

Giles chuckled as Elisa pretended to roll her eyes, annoyed, but she was smiling. She then seemed to look at him closely.

_ What have you been doing since then? _ She asked, her head cocked slightly to the side. 

“Oh me? Well. I’ve done a lot of things. Painted a lot. Became good friends with Zelda-” Giles eyes grew wide as he remembered. “Zelda! Zelda! I have to call Zelda. At some point I have to go back to the city and call Zelda and tell her that I found you. Yeah. I told her that I was coming, back when the kids came up. I told her that my grandchildren came to see me and they had gills and that you were alive. And she didn’t believe me because I sounded like a madman and I wouldn’t have believed me either if it hadn’t been true. Plus she’s got her kids and grandkids to look after and all that. Can’t just up and fly to Brazil.”

Elisa leaned her head in closer, her curiosity changed to surprise.

_ Grandkids? Zelda?! _ She signed, using Zelda’s name sign, the word for ‘clean’ pulled into a ‘z’ that also happened to mean ‘nice’. 

“Yeah. Yeah. Step-kids. Three of ‘em. Yeah, she divorced Brewster after she thought he killed you. Well… helped contribute to your death at the hands of… whatever. Yeah. She met a nice man who had a couple kids from a previous marriage. Three step-kids and I want to say eight grandkids.”

Elisa nodded, her mouth open slightly in disbelief as Ariel sidled up next to her. 

_ Are you talking about Aunt Zelda?  _ Ariel asked.  _ Did he tell you she left her husband? Just like you said!  _

Elisa wrapped an arm around Ariel’s shoulder and hugged her close. Ariel tried to wriggle out of her grip, though she too was smiling. 

_ Go help your dad catch dinner _ , Elisa signed, releasing her daughter from the hug. 

_ Why? _ _ _

Elisa gave her a look.

_ Because I said so. _

Ariel rolled her eyes and made her way back towards the river. 

“It feels like just yesterday I was telling teenage you to go help your father make dinner ‘because I said so’.”

_ What can I say?  _ Elisa asked, shrugging.  _ I learned from the best. _

“Aww. You’re just saying that because you faked your death twenty years ago and now you feel bad about it.”

Elisa let out a silent peal of laughter. She shook her head and regained control of her breathing

_ No. I’m pretty sure I actually died. Or was getting there. Because I thought… I thought I saw him. On the ‘other side’. For a split second. Before my love brought me back.  _

Giles felt tears prick his eyes again. 

“You did?”

_ I think so, _ Elisa signed, tears starting to fall from her own eyes.  _ I don’t know. It was probably just my mind playing tricks on me. I  _ **_was_ ** _ dying. But I like to think it was him.  _

Giles nodded, unable to say anything. She touched his arm lightly to comfort, and the combination of what she had just said and feeling her touch, knowing she was physically there, made him let out a sob.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, crying. “I don’t think I’m capable of not crying today. I’m just not. I mean knowing you’re alive and you’re here and then you saying you might have seen him. Oh my dear. It’s just too much. Oh, Elisa. Elisa, Elisa, Elisa. I’ve missed you so much.”

_ I’ve missed you too _ , Elisa signed.  _ I thought about you everyday. More when we found the kids. I kept thinking about how I laughed when you said you didn’t know what you were doing. And then I felt bad because I felt the exact same way. _

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” Giles said, wiping his eyes. “You never  _ really _ know what you’re doing. But you keep trying. And I clearly did something right along the way. And from the looks of it, you’re doing something right too.”

Elisa smiled gently. 

“Though I do have to say something about their names,” Giles added, looking her in the eye and raising his eyebrows. “Eric and Ariel? Where do you find those?”

_ I don’t know. I just like them _ , Elisa signed defensively.  _ They’re good names. _

“We do family names, Elisa.  _ Family  _ names.”

_ Elisa isn’t a family name! _

“Well it’s almost a family name. It counts. I have no idea where you got those from.”

_ I just like them _ .  _ And seeing as how you made up my name I don’t think you can really say anything. _

“I didn’t- It’s a common name…” Giles stammered. “Okay fine.”

Elisa crossed her arms triumphantly. 

“You really have done a good job with them,” Giles said. 

_ And I really mean it when I say I’ve learned from the best _ , Elisa agreed. 

She paused for a moment, thinking, and then began to sign. 

_ When you told me that I was adopted all those years ago...When you said it, I felt angry and hurt and started thinking of all these questions. Who am I? Where did I come from? But then, less then a moment later, I realized it didn’t matter. I thought of all those kids at school whose parents didn’t want them or didn’t like them. And I thought my dads want me so much they’re willing to keep secrets, big secrets, because they don’t want to lose me. They’ll do anything not to lose me. And then it didn’t matter. I was wanted and loved and I didn’t care anymore. I had everything I needed. _

“That was my promise to you,” Giles affirmed. “From the day I found you, I promised that I was never going to let you feel unwanted. And I know we had some glitches along the way, but I think overall I did a pretty good job.”

Elisa nodded. 

Giles felt the question pressing at him, and cleared his throat. This was as good a time as any.

“Speaking of feeling … Well, you know I haven’t…” Giles let out a sigh. “There’s nothing really tieing me to Baltimore anymore. After you were gone, it was just Andrew. And I’d much rather talk to him out loud or in my head than talk to a rock with his name on it.”

Giles looked around, not making eye contact with Elisa. 

“I was just thinking perhaps I could live down here with you and your fish family. Get to see you. Get to know the grandchildren. Not underwater though. No offense, but I don’t want gills. But maybe I could build a shack somewhere over there. Be the crotchety old grandpa down the street. Yell at the kids to get off my… well, this isn’t so much a lawn as much as… Get off my river bank, I guess?”

He looked back to her. She looked expectant, encouraging him to continue.

“I won’t be offended if you say no. But I thought I’d ask. Since I’m here and all.”

Elisa turned her head slightly. 

_ Why would I say no? _

“Well not everyone is okay with their parents living so close. Personal space and all that.”

Elisa raised her hands to sign and answer but thought better of it and instead wrapped her father in a bear hug. 

They stayed like that for a long time. It wasn’t until the creature appeared at their side and chirped impatiently. 

As they pulled apart, facing streaming, he held out a piece of raw fish to both of them. Giles looked from the offered fish to Elisa, his face concerned. 

_ Dinner _ , she signed, doing her best to keep a straight face as she watched her father’s discomfort. 

Giles looked back to the fish. 

“Maybe I don’t want to move in after all,” he muttered. 

Elisa laughed her silent laugh and slid an arm around his shoulder.

_ Don’t worry. I can make a fire _ , she reassured him as she pulled away.

Giles breathed a sigh of relief as Elisa laughed at him. 

When she was finished laughing, she observed him, beaming.

“What?” he asked, jokingly suspicious. “Is it something about the fish? You’re gonna make me eat it raw aren’t you? Some kind of initiation, right? Elisa, I’m an old man… You wouldn’t do that to an old man, would you?”

Elisa shook her head, chuckling as her braid tail flipping back and forth. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks afresh. She raised a hand to cover her mouth, but Giles could still see her smile. After a moment, she took a deep breath and raised shaky hands.

_ Even after all this time,  _ she signed.  _ You found me again. _

* * *

The End

* * *

 

_ There’s a place where we don’t have to feel unknown. And everytime you call out, you’re a little less alone. If you only say the word, from across the silence, your voice is heard. Someone will come running to take you home.  _

_ Even when the dark comes crashing through… _

_ When you need a friend to carry you… _

_ When you’re broken on the ground… _

__  
_ You will be found. _ __  
  


 

“You Will Be Found” from  _ Dear Evan Hansen _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie. I cried when writing the last two chapters. I've never done that before, but I am so invested in this story and these characters that I couldn't help it. I mean, I was invested to begin with, so thats saying something. 
> 
>  
> 
> Effectively, I wrote three different fanfics in this one long story. Part 1 (Chapters 1-10) is the story of Elisa growing up with her fathers and little snippets of their lives together. Part 2 (Chapters 11-19) is the story of Elisa at Occam, beginning with her interview with Fleming and ending with her death. And the Epilogue is the aftermath of her death. 
> 
>  
> 
> Each can almost stand alone from each other, yet they have to be together because they inform each other. 
> 
>  
> 
> This is a Frankenstein fic. I have not only pulled from canon and developed my own AU, but I’ve pulled from my published fics as well as used unpublished material that I had in development. It’s cobbled together from so much and weaved itself into the giant tapestry in front of you. 
> 
>  
> 
> I started to take stock last year about my writing tropes. What patterns did I see in my various works and all that. Some of them, especially my character tropes, were pretty specific. I often included in stories at least one character who was bisexual or Jewish or from Cleveland or snarky and disabled. Some of these are true for this story. 
> 
>  
> 
> But the most consistent pattern had to do with plot. I write stories about family. My last three major works, two original and one fanfiction, have all had to do with family. Families that aren’t traditional. Families that have some problems. Families that, at the end of the day, love each other dearly and will fight to the death for one another.   
>   
>   
> Though this is most definitely a  
>  __  
> The Shape Of Water  
>   
>  fanfiction, it is first and foremost a story about family and I worked very hard to make sure that wasn’t forgotten. 
> 
>  
> 
> It would have been very easy to never reference Andrew again following his death. Or to not have Elisa to refer to Giles her father in her head, and similarly not have Giles refer to her as his daughter. But then what would be the point of the story? You don’t forget your loved ones who have died nor do you often refer to your family members by first name. Family is built on relationships and those are the kind of things that make them real. 
> 
>  
> 
> Even in the most fantastical of circumstances, I tried to make them feel like real people. If I didn’t, not only would I have let you all down as a writer, but I would have done a dishonor to the movie which does just that. It’s a story of people who feel real, people you feel like you could very well know, living under fantastical circumstances.   
> I hope that I did a good job at that.
> 
>  
> 
> I’ve enjoyed writing this piece so much. It's literally kept me sane these last few weeks. During these last two weeks, every minute I wasn't working, I was writing. It was my self-care and it was so important.  
> 
>  
> 
> I know I say this every time, but seriously, from the bottom of my heart: Thank you, thank you, thank you. You all are the best and every single hit and kudos and comment has spurred this work on. I wrote a freaking novel-length fic because you guys wanted it, and I hope it lives up to your expectations. I hope you enjoy the ending and that it did the characters and the story honor.  
> 
>  
> 
> Probably here in the next few days, I'm going to post a long, in-depth, chapter by chapter note on my   
> [ Tumblr ](https://wordhtml.com/bwayfan25.tumblr.com)  
>  page, so if that's something you'd be interested in looking at, keep an eye out. Plus I'll probably share a few more of my sketches. They'll be on my page and also under the tag 'tsow lost and found'. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much. I'm going to finish my other fics, but after a little break from writing. I didn't quite hit 100k, but I got pretty damn close. I think I deserve a little bit of a break.
> 
>  
> 
> Until next time… 


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